Until the End of Time
by Marauders4EVR
Summary: Sherlock Holmes has always been brilliant. He knew that he was the smartest child in London. He knew that the other children thought of him as daft. He knew that the funny man with the bowtie really was daft. He knew that the safest place in the universe was in his brother's arms. He knew that no matter where they went, Mycroft would be there to protect him. Until the end of time.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Neither Sherlock nor Doctor Who belong to me.

Until The End of Time

Summary: Sherlock Holmes has always been brilliant. Even at a young age, he knew that he was the smartest child in London; save for his brother. Sherlock knew that the other children thought of him as daft. He knew that the funny man with the bowtie really was daft. He knew that police boxes could fly through time and space. He knew that the safest place in the universe was in his brother's arms. He knew that no matter where they went, Mycroft would be there to protect him. Until the end of time

Author's Note: I have seen many wonderful Wholock stories that involve Sherlock traveling with the Doctor, usually accompanied by John. But few have shown Sherlock traveling with Mycroft. I saw the opportunity and took it. For the majority of the story (save for the first three 'prologue' chapters) Mycroft will be fourteen and Sherlock seven. So basically it's an epically emotional coming-of-age story that's filled with brotherly-feels. Oh and the Doctor will be there! It's going to be sappy. It's going to be cliché. It's going to be absolutely brilliant! It's going to be Sherlock, Mycroft, and the Doctor—three children traveling through time and space in a blue police-box. What could go wrong?

Chapter One

Sherlock Holmes knew what was at stake. He anxiously squeezed his brother's hand. In turn, Mycroft gave him a reassuring smile. The brothers kept to the shadows, their hearts thundering with anticipation. After what seemed like ages, the two finally reached their destination—the kitchen.

"Right," Mycroft whispered, "Come on, Sherlock."

The small boy climbed onto Mycroft's shoulders. Mycroft teetered for a moment before stumbling over to the cabinet. He stood on his tiptoes, allowing Sherlock to open the door and reach for the tin. Unfortunately, it was too heavy for a five-year old to hold.

"Watch it!" Mycroft hissed.

Too late—the tin slipped and shattered as it hit the floor. Sherlock quickly slipped down and the two brothers grabbed as many biscuits as they could carry. Mycroft tilted his head and they hastily raced out of the kitchen.

Silence and stealth forgotten, the brothers bounded up the stairs and quickly entered the nursery. Mycroft shut the door and leaned against it. There was a tense moment before Sherlock pointed out, "Father's going to notice. Biscuit tins don't just leap from the shelf."

Mycroft hushed him as they heard approaching footsteps. He pocketed the biscuits and the two rapidly buried their noses into the nearest books. The door opened and their father entered, bringing himself up to full height.

"Father," Mycroft said, feigning a sense of innocence, "What's wrong?"

"The biscuit tin is on the floor," Mr. Holmes remarked with a scowl, "Do you know anything about that?"

"No, sir," Mycroft replied, "Perhaps it was rats."

"Sherlock," Mr. Holmes crossly said, "Did _you_ see anything?"

Sherlock shook his head and remarked, "No, sir. We were reading."

Mr. Holmes grunted before swiftly walking away.

Mycroft let out a sigh of relief and handed Sherlock a biscuit. He anxiously nibbled on it and returned to his book. It was an excellent one about two older brothers who solved mysteries.

Mycroft glanced up and blabbed, "They find the jewels in the water tower."

"Naturally," Sherlock replied, "Going to the mansion was a stupid idea."

Mycroft chuckled at his brother's deduction before grimacing as he realized that biscuit crumbs were scattered amongst the pages of the book.

"Oi," Mycroft cried, "Why don't you read one of your own books for a change?"

Sherlock frowned and glanced over at his dusty shelf. It was piled high with bright and colorful picture books, many of which hadn't been cracked.

"Fair point," Mycroft muttered.

"Why does Father keep buying them?" Sherlock asked, frustrated, "I keep asking for him to buy me chapter-books and he keeps looking at me like I'm daft."

"Sherlock Holmes," Mycroft said, fiercely, "You are not daft!"

He ruffled his brother's dark brown curls and enthusiastically said, "You're the brightest student at primary school. You're brighter than the professors. You're brighter than Father."

"Brighter than you?" Sherlock asked, his blue eyes shining.

"Don't be daft," Mycroft scoffed.

Sherlock smiled in shy admiration. He then caught sight of his toy-chest and pulled out two wooden swords. His smile turned into one of hopefulness.

Mycroft sighed and said, "Not now, Sherlock. Oh, don't give me that look! Father's study is right below us."

"We could put pillows on the floor to muffle the vibrations," Sherlock said, pleadingly.

Mycroft softened, his own silver eyes sparkling.

"We could whisper!"

"Who ever heard of a whispering pirate?"

"Please, Mycroft?" Sherlock whined, "Please!"

Mycroft was silent, fingering the wooden sword.

"Mycroft?"

"That's Captain Mycroft to you," Mycroft growled, "Avast!"

"Engard!" Sherlock cried, raising his sword. The two began to playfully fight.

"Sherlock," Mycroft exasperatedly said, "Pirates don't say en…Sherlock!"

For his brother had fallen backwards into the wardrobe. It made a terrific crash and immediately caused the brothers to tense. The door flew open and their father reentered.

"Father," Mycroft squeaked.

"What is this racket?" Mr. Holmes barked, "What's the meaning of this?"

"Sorry," Mycroft mumbled, "Sorry, sir."

"Sherlock," Mr. Holmes ordered, "Get ready to turn in. Pyjamas and teeth brushed."

"But I'm not Sherlock," Sherlock argued, "I'm a pirate!"

Mr. Holmes' temper flared, "Pirates? You're not playing that rubbish again?"

"It's just pretend," Mycroft muttered. He ran a hand through his thin and fair hair, trying to sum up enough courage to explain his reasoning for having fun.

"Enough!" Mr. Holmes cried, "Mycroft Holmes, you are twelve-years old! You should hardly be spending your time doing such mundane things as playing pirate!"

"But it's fun!" Sherlock argued.

"I don't have time for this," Mr. Holmes said, rubbing his brow, "I have a very important conference in the morning. I blame this nursery. Mycroft, a boy your age should really have a room of his own. Don't you think?"

"No!" Mycroft cried, horrified, "Father, I don't want…"

"Don't be ridiculous," Mr. Holmes said with a wave of his hand, "I really should have planned this sooner. You're getting too old for…pretend. It's time that you took on some responsibility."

"But Father…" Mycroft tried to argue.

"It's settled," Mr. Holmes said, twisting his mustache in a most unattractive way, "You may move into the spare room this weekend. It shouldn't take too much effort. After all, you won't be taking any of these…toys. In the meantime, off to bed with the both of you."

He whirled around and stomped away, stepping on Mycroft's wooden sword. Mycroft sadly picked it up. When he lowered it, he found that Sherlock was giving him an odd expression. An expression that Mycroft had only seen several times; the last of which he had seen while standing next to a coffin in a musty church.

"Sherlock," Mycroft slowly said, "You alright?"

All at once his brother's face crumbled. Sherlock raced around and pelted through the large house, blinking back tears.

"Sherlock!"

Before Sherlock knew it, he had made it outside. There was no one to stop him or ask him why he was upset. The Holmes family didn't live in a relatively busy neighborhood. In fact, it was rather secluded. Nobody stopped to ask one another about their lives. The large and elaborate rowhouses framed the street and paralleled a quaint little park. Sherlock knew that he oughtn't to cross the street without Mycroft or another adult. He glanced both ways before starting to dash across the pedestrian crossing all the same.

A shrill sound of a horn was only drowned out by Mycroft's scream. Sherlock brought his hands up and was shocked when nothing hit him. He looked up and saw that the car had stopped mere paces from him. Sherlock gave a start, realizing that the lampposts were flickering along with the traffic lights. The next thing he saw was his brother's relieved face as Mycroft embraced him. Sherlock was still for a moment before dissolving into tears.

"What were you thinking?" Mycroft cried, "Blimey, do you have any sense?"

"What happened?" Sherlock managed to ask, using Mycroft's sleeve to wipe his eyes.

"You ran out in front of a bloody car!" Mycroft said, still quite pale, "Christ, it could have crushed you."

"So why didn't it?"

Mycroft slowly let go of him as he realized that he didn't know. By now, others were running up the street to try and see if they could help. And yet one man caught their eye. The man was standing on the other side of the park gate. He held something funny in his hand—a trinket of sorts. Then again he was a funny looking man. He had a tweed jacket and trainers with a red bowtie of all things. A funny man with a bowtie.

Sherlock was also staring at him, his head slightly tilted as the gears and cogs of his mind raced. The man winked before turning and disappearing into the park.

"Mycroft," Sherlock said, softly, "I think that it was him. He saved me."

"What are you talking about?" Mycroft asked, sharply.

"He stopped the car," Sherlock said, looking thoughtful.

"Sherlock," Mycroft said, a touch of fear in his voice, "That's impossible."

"Come on!" Sherlock insisted.

Without further ado, he ran over and wrung open the gate.

"Sherlock, get back here!" Mycroft cried, "What's gotten into you?"

Sherlock didn't listen and raced up the cobblestone path. He glanced around before spotting a dense thicket of trees. He slowly peered through the branches and gasped, "Whoa!"

He pushed the branches aside and walked into a small clearing. For a moment, he could only stare. Finally, Sherlock managed to whisper, "Mycroft, you have to see this!"

Mycroft joined him and also gasped. The two brothers stood side-by-side and stared at the brilliant blue police box. Mycroft put an arm around his brother's shoulders. For a moment, they were merely entranced by its beauty.

"What is it?" Mycroft finally asked.

"She's a Tardis."

The two brothers turned and saw that the funny man with the bowtie had returned. He was beaming up at the box, "And she's mine."

"A what?" Sherlock asked.

The man's smile widened and he repeated, "Time and Relative Dimension in Space."

The two boys didn't understand. A calm silence fell upon the clearing in which they seemed to be sizing each other up.

"Thank you for saving me," Sherlock finally mumbled, bouncing on his heels.

"We don't know that he did," Mycroft muttered.

Sherlock tilted his head and softly said, "It was you, wasn't it? You stopped the car. I know that you did. How did you do it?"

"Well," the man looked modest as he explained, "I just…I used my Sonic Screwdriver."

"Sonic Screwdriver?" Mycroft scoffed, wondering what nonsense the man was prattling on about, "Come on, Sherlock."

"Sherlock?"

The man suddenly looked fascinated by the two boys, "Sherlock Holmes?"

"Yes," Sherlock said, taking a step towards his brother.

"And you're…Mycroft?"

"Who are you?" Mycroft demanded.

The man gave them a kind smile that reached his eyes as he said, "Well, I'm the Doctor."

Sherlock glanced at Mycroft and Mycroft glanced at Sherlock and both brothers firmly demanded, "Doctor who?"

Author's Note: I promised myself that I wouldn't put 'the thing' in. I think we all knew that I was lying. So can you hear the escalating drums? Can you see London's Eye spinning?

I would greatly appreciate reviews!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! To answer a few: Yes, this is the modern-BBC Sherlock but it's set when they are younger. It is the Eleventh Doctor (the funny man with the bowtie) and as far as his history goes, these adventures take place sometime after Angels Take Manhattan but before the adventures with Clara (which I have not yet seen). I would love to hear any suggestions although I already have a general direction in which I want to steer this story.

Chapter Two

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"But it's impossible."

"I know."

"It's…"

"Bigger on the inside," Sherlock interrupted his brother.

The Doctor smiled and watched as the two brothers eagerly glanced around the console, trying to take everything in at once.

"She can go anywhere into time and space," the Doctor continued.

"But that's impossible!" Mycroft argued, "Who are you? What are you?"

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor said, adjusting his bowtie. Before Mycroft could repeat his earlier question, he added, "Just the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord."

"A what?" Sherlock asked, tilting his head.

"Time Lord."

"There's no such thing," Mycroft grumbled.

The Doctor merely raised his eyebrows.

Sherlock glanced around and attentively said, "So…anywhere in time and space?"

"Yes."

"You're mad," Mycroft spluttered, "Come on, Sherlock."

"Give me a chance," the Doctor eagerly said.

"To do what?"

"To prove it," the Doctor replied, "To prove that it travels through time and space. You two look like you could use some cheering up."

"No," Mycroft firmly said, "No, I'm sorry. I've got to get my brother home. Father won't be pleased if we're late."

"It's a time machine," Sherlock pointed out, eagerly tugging at Mycroft's sleeve, "He can have us back yesterday!"

The Doctor smiled and remarked, "Well, not quite. But I can take you across the universe and back in five minutes."

"Come on, Mycroft! Please!" Sherlock practically begged.

"Do you trust me?" the Doctor asked.

"No," Mycroft immediately proclaimed.

To his surprised, a glimmer of relief passed over the Doctor's face.

"Trust _me_," Sherlock pleaded, his eyes shining, "Please, Mycroft?"

Mycroft sighed but realized that he was losing this fight. At wit's end, he snarled, "Fine."

"Hold onto something," the Doctor said with a smile.

Sherlock held onto Mycroft who held onto the console. The Doctor pulled several levers and pushed several buttons. A gnashing and grinding sound commenced. The entire box trembled for a moment before stabilizing.

"Was that it then?" Mycroft cynically asked, "Are you happy, Sherlock? Come on; let's go home."

"You'd have a bit of a walk, mate," the Doctor said with a wry smile.

He crossed the room and opened the door. The two brothers felt their jaws drop. Galaxies were spread out before them. Billions of stars and meteors lined the inky sky.

Mycroft and Sherlock slowly stood up and crossed the room. The Doctor protectively put his arms around them, just in case. Mycroft raised his hand and felt the universe fly by. It was brilliant. It was illogical. It simply couldn't be. And such a contradiction could only cause the two brothers to laugh.

"Alright," Mycroft finally declared, "I'm not saying that I trust you but…I believe you."

The Doctor looked delighted and said, "So, what do you think, Sherlock?"

Sherlock thought about it for a moment before saying, "I'm hungry."

"Hungry!" the Doctor yelped, amused, "I take you across the universe and show you millions of stars and you say that you're hungry?"

Sherlock stood by it. Mycroft chuckled, pulling the last biscuit out of his pocket and handed it to his brother. The Doctor smiled at the gesture before exclaiming, "Right then! Where do you want to go?"

"Go?" Mycroft repeated, "Go where?"

"Anywhere you'd like," the Doctor replied, "Anywhere in time and space."

"Really?" Sherlock whispered, excitedly.

"Now hang on," Mycroft reprimanded, "I'm not just going to let you barrel off across the universe! You're still in trouble for trying to cross the street!"

Sherlock stuck out his bottom lip and excused his near brush with death by saying, "But he saved me! The Doctor saved me!"

"What if he hadn't," Mycroft urged.

"But he did," Sherlock replied, as if that settled things.

"It was incredibly foolish," Mycroft chastised.

"But it's not my fault!" Sherlock argued.

"Of course not," Mycroft muttered.

Sherlock glared at him and heatedly snapped, "You said that it isn't my fault when somebody is being a bully."

"It's…it's not," Mycroft stammered, "But…Father's not…he's not a bully."

Both brothers were mildly aware that the Doctor was leaning against the wall, cheerfully listening to every word.

"He's not," Mycroft urged, trying to convince Sherlock, the Doctor, and himself.

"He was going to make you leave the nursery," Sherlock softly pointed out.

"Leave the nursery?"

The Doctor straightened up, tripped over his own feet, straightened up once more and indignantly cried, "You're leaving your nursery? You're growing up?"

"Tonight was my last night," Mycroft softly admitted. He carefully scooped his brother up, balancing him on his hip. For a moment, the two sadly stared at the thousands of stars.

Sherlock pensively rested his head on Mycroft's shoulder.

"One more night before you grow up," the Doctor thoughtfully said. He suddenly looked excited as he roared, "Well then! We have to stretch that night out as much as possible!"

"Can we?" Sherlock pleaded, "Please, Mycroft?"

And though every string of his heart strummed with hesitation, Mycroft found himself longingly nodding. The Doctor gave a small cheer of delight and closed the door, once again asking them for a destination. Mycroft thought for a moment but it was Sherlock who excitedly answered, "Can you take us to see pirates?"

The Doctor beamed and replied, "I can do one better!"

Mycroft and Sherlock quickly grabbed onto the console. The Doctor hit more buttons and pulled more levers. The grinding noise returned and the box began to shake. When everything settled, the Doctor skipped over to the door and threw it open.

"Wicked," Sherlock whispered.

"What is it?" Mycroft asked, only seeing giant rolls of white. He then realized that they were enormous clouds that stretched for miles.

"Hang on," Mycroft caught Sherlock's hand to prevent his brother from diving head-first out of the Tardis, "Clouds are made of water. You can't just…"

"On Earth, you would be right," the Doctor patiently said, "However, this planet's entire surface is nothing but clouds. It's perfectly safe."

"You…you first," Mycroft pleaded, uncertainly.

The Doctor nodded and suddenly yelled, "Geronimo!"

He leapt from the Tardis, landing in a heap of fluff. Sherlock giggled and repeated his wild cry before joining him. Mycroft flinched but relaxed when his brother safely landed. For a moment, Sherlock merely rolled around and eagerly felt the texture. He then looked back towards the Tardis and cried, "Coming, Mycroft?"

Mycroft sighed and whispered, "Geronimo."

He jumped and landed on what felt like a pile soft pillows. He sat up but was immediately driven down as Sherlock tackled him. The two chased each other around, leaping and bouncing on the fluffy surface, as the Doctor proceeded to make a cloud-angel. Mycroft realized that the gravity was less than that on Earth. He felt as light as a feather. He was able to easily sweep Sherlock up and toss him. For a moment, Sherlock hovered high in the air before laughing and cannonballing into the clouds. He popped back up, shaking wisps from his hair.

"Ahoy!"

The Doctor suddenly leapt up, looking delighted. Sherlock and Mycroft looked up and felt their jaws drop. An enormous ship was sailing towards them, skimming across the clouds as if it was water. Black sails fluttered in the wind.

"They're…pirates?" Mycroft whispered.

"Alien-pirates," the Doctor enthusiastically replied.

The Time Lord then took a deep breath and roared, "Ahoy! It is I, The Doctor!"

The ship crawled to a stop and a huge anchor lowered. The Doctor quickly nodded his head and the three scrambled onto the top of the Tardis. The anchor caught the door of the Tardis and lifted the box up to the deck. The three slid down and were immediately met by a group of scraggly men. Sherlock ducked behind Mycroft who ducked behind the Doctor who looked confident as he roared, "Yo-ho! Aaarrgh!"

When they merely stared at him, the Doctor shrugged and said, "No? Okay."

A pirate stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder, roaring, "Doctor! It's good to see you again!"

The others boomed similar greetings before turning their attention to the brothers. The man who greeted the Doctor gave them a toothy smile and growled, "Welcome aboard!"

This seemed to be enough to ease Sherlock's nerves. He grinned and ducked around his brother and the Doctor, eagerly going up and shaking the pirate's prosthetic hand.

"Mycroft and Sherlock," the Doctor introduced, "Guseraquis the Third. Gus for short."

Gus spat on the floor which Sherlock imitated.

"A new habit to break," Mycroft muttered, "Lovely."

The Doctor merely grinned and spat alongside them. Mycroft rolled his eyes but repeated the process, not wanting to disrespect anyone.

The Doctor looked around and asked, "Hang on. Where's the Captain?"

"He's six feet under. Had a blooming heart-attack," Gus soberly explained, "We had to bury him a few months ago."

The Doctor, Mycroft, and Sherlock offered their sympathies though the pirates didn't seem too bothered by the memory.

"So, who is the new captain?" the Doctor asked.

A chorus of mumbles and whispers wafted through the crowd, as if the thought hadn't crossed their minds.

"You're joking?" Mycroft snickered, "You have to have a captain!"

"Captain Mycroft," Sherlock suddenly shouted.

"What?" Mycroft yelped.

"Captain Mycroft," the Doctor animatedly repeated.

The pirates began to chant, "Captain Mycroft, hurrah! Awaiting orders, captain!"

Mycroft stuttered and mumbled something unintelligent. By the time he came to his senses, the group was looking upon him with the utmost respect.

"I…I can't be the captain," Mycroft whispered.

"Of course you can," Sherlock excitedly claimed, "You're a great captain!"

"Sherlock," Mycroft hissed, "That's just pretend. It's not real."

"Well _this_ is real," the Doctor said with an encouraging smile, "And this crew needs a good captain."

Mycroft's ears grew increasingly red as he tried to find a way out. After carefully thinking, he finally pointed out, "I'm not even dressed like a pirate."

The Doctor snapped his fingers, realizing that Mycroft was right. The Time Lord began to rummage through his pockets. He managed to pull out two eye-patches, two spyglasses, and two wooden swords that strikingly resembled Sherlock and Mycroft's toy-swords. Mycroft reluctantly took one of each as well as a large tricorn hat. Sherlock and the Doctor fell back with the crew and eagerly stared at Mycroft.

Mycroft glanced at his brother. His eyes were shining with the anticipation of a grand adventure. Mycroft wasn't about to deny him one.

"Avast, ye scurvy landlovers!" Mycroft roared, putting on the tricorn hat and his eye-patch, "Hull the anchor, raise the sails, do…other things! Engard!"

They immediately set to work. Sherlock managed to climb up to the mast and eagerly looked around. Mycroft strolled around and barked orders, with the occasional aid of the Doctor to remind him of his terminology.

"Do we have our heading?" Sherlock called down.

Mycroft hesitated and glanced at the Doctor who roared, "Ay-ay!"

"Then take us over the horizon!"

"Geronimo," the Doctor replied and the ship set forward.

"Geronimo," Sherlock squealed.

Mycroft chuckled and whispered, "Geronimo."

What a grand adventure it was! The ship smoothly sailed across the clouds. They managed to pass mermaids, who leapt out of the clouds and did fantastic tricks. The pirates cheered and guffawed. Sherlock slid back down to the deck to be part of the action but soon sadly realized that he was too small to see much of anything. The Doctor smiled and pulled him onto his shoulder. The mermaids twirled through the air and came close to the ship. They sang wonderful songs and told enchanting stories. At one point, the Doctor covered both brothers' eyes, reminding the crew that there were children on board. When Mycroft reopened his eyes, the mermaids were gone and the pirates looked rather bashful. Sherlock giggled, even if he couldn't understand it any more than his brother.

As the ship sailed on, Mycroft realized that small mounds of gold were rising from the clouds. They soon became as big as mountains! Mycroft reckoned that there was enough gold to make every human a millionaire. And yet the pirates didn't touch a single coin.

"What pirate doesn't like gold?" Mycroft wondered aloud.

"Not all treasure is gold, mate," Gus pointed out.

The gold soon diminished before completely disappearing. Several flamingos suddenly leapt from the clouds and flew onto the ship.

Sherlock hopped down from the Doctor's shoulder and approached a bird. He went to pet it but the flamingo scoffed, "Do you mind?"

Sherlock gave a start and whispered, "It talks."

"Of course we talk, dear boy," the flamingo replied with a smile.

The Doctor somehow managed to talk the flamingo into giving Sherlock a ride. The bird was reproachful at first but softened at Sherlock's pleading look. Sherlock eagerly climbed onto its back and it flew high into the air. Mycroft watched in horror.

"Don't worry," the Doctor laughed, "You can take the next one."

"I most certainly will not," Mycroft scoffed but the Doctor physically lifted him onto the bird and it flew off. Mycroft had to admit that it was a wonderful feeling. They zoomed around the ship, laughing and whooping.

Upon landing, the brothers watched as the Doctor checked a strange looking watch before smiling and saying, "You're going to love this."

All of a sudden, the clouds began to change color—every color that Mycroft could imagine and hundreds more that he had never known. The brothers raced to the edge of the ship to get a better view. The colors eventually turned into stars. That's not to say that the clouds disappeared. Rather, the clouds were made of stars! And every star was a different color.

Several pirates retrieved barrels of rum which they happily drank. Sherlock stepped forward but Mycroft grabbed the back of his shirt and said, "I don't think so."

The pirates began to sing and dance, telling tales that would cause the mermaids' heads to spin. Many of them were energetic, some were slightly scary, and others were surprisingly calming. Mycroft closed his eyes and hugged Sherlock close to him. A few hours ago, they were sitting in a stiff house with an equally stiff father. Now the two brothers were sitting next to an ancient Time Lord, gently swaying to the pirates' lullabies. And it was all due to that funny man with the bowtie.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Sorry for the short delay. I will post this tonight (06/04/13) and hopefully will post the next chapter tomorrow. This is the end of the 'prologue' chapters.

Chapter Three

Sherlock snored. Mycroft knew this. Sherlock didn't and always seemed to argue the point whenever it was brought up. But his brother did snore. And he was snoring now—snoring in the Doctor's arms as the Time Lord carefully carried him into the Tardis. Mycroft sleepily followed, though he willed himself to not fall asleep. He drowsily waved at the pirates, worn out from the adventure. And yet the door closed on their adventure, quite literally as the Doctor shut the Tardis door. He set Sherlock in a comfy chair that Mycroft didn't remember seeing. Just as well, he thought. The Tardis appeared to be endless and Mycroft wasn't about to go searching for his brother should he get lost. It was best to keep him right in the main room.

Mycroft ruffled his brother's curls, lost in thought. Sherlock smiled in his sleep and turned over, peacefully dreaming. Meanwhile, the Doctor was happily chatting away.

"…if you want to. What do you think, Mycroft?" the Doctor cheerfully asked. When he was met with silence, he turned and repeated, "Mycroft?"

The Doctor's eyes widened as he realized that the Tardis door was open. He quickly raced over and bellowed, "MYCROFT!"

"What!?"

The Doctor looked up and sighed with relief, the smile returning. Mycroft was sitting on top of the Tardis, having been staring at the stars. He now looked alarmed and apologetically cried, "Sorry! Is this against the rules?"

The Doctor chuckled at the question and assuredly said, "No…no. Can I join you?"

Mycroft nodded and the Doctor heaved himself up. Whereas Mycroft drew his knees to his chest and thoughtfully looked around, the Doctor swung his legs back and forth and beamed at the passing stars and planets.

The Doctor glanced over at Mycroft and frowned before saying, "Something wrong?"

"I'm sitting on top of a blue police-box that's traveling through the universe," Mycroft spluttered, as though just realizing this.

"Yes you are," the Doctor replied.

"We just met pirates."

"Yes."

"Alien-pirates."

"Yes."

"Aliens exist."

The Doctor nodded and jokingly said, "Well I certainly hope so."

"You're an alien," Mycroft continued, "You're an alien in a bowtie. Why _are_ you wearing a bowtie?"

"Bowties are cool," the Doctor proudly replied.

Mycroft snorted and remarked, "On what planet?"

The Doctor frowned but Mycroft didn't notice. He glanced back at the stars and quietly commented, "That's the universe."

"Yes."

Mycroft took a deep breath and finally said, "Okay. No. It's not okay. It's…It feels like a dream."

"Do you believe that it's a dream?"

He looked up at the Doctor's question before admitting, "No. But it doesn't seem…real. I mean until tonight I never would've imagined this could have possibly existed."

He thoughtfully watched as a meteor went by and whispered, "How?"

"What?"

"How _can_ this even exist?" Mycroft asked, "How does a blue police box travel through time and space?"

"Well," the Doctor hesitated before saying, "It's a bit complicated."

"Complicated?" Mycroft amusedly repeated.

"A bit," the Doctor admitted with a chuckle, "Blimey, just look at it though. Twelve hundred years and it never ceases to amaze me."

"Twelve hundred years?" Mycroft reiterated.

"Should we wake Sherlock to see this?" the Doctor continued.

Mycroft thought about it for a moment before earnestly saying, "Better not. He gets cranky if he doesn't sleep."

The Doctor nodded and acclaimed, "You're a good brother."

"Thanks."

"I mean it. You really are."

"I try to be," Mycroft glumly responded, "But I can't protect him from everything."

There was a quiet pause which didn't suit the Doctor well. Therefore he said, "He really looks up to you."

"Yeah," Mycroft said with a small smile, "I know. He was crushed when Father announced that I was going to move out of the nursery. So much so that…well, you saw what happened."

He really didn't feel like remembering his younger brother dart in front of a car. He hastily changed the subject by asking, "What about you? Do you have any family or friends? Are there other weird-haired bow-tie wearing aliens running around?"

"No," the Doctor quietly said, "I'm the last Time Lord."

"I'm sorry," Mycroft offered before asking, "The Time Lords…you…what do you do? I mean besides save my brother from an oncoming car and offering to take us to see alien-pirates."

"Well…" the Doctor looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "That's also a bit complicated."

"Right," Mycroft said, wearily. He was beginning to get a headache.

"Is your father a bully?"

Mycroft looked up at this but determined that the Doctor was merely asking an innocent question. Mycroft sighed and said, "Not like the bullies Sherlock faces. It's awful. He just started primary school this past year and he's already reading at a high-school level!"

"That's brilliant."

"That's what I keep trying to tell him," Mycroft pressed, "But his classmates…well you know how they can be…"

The Doctor nodded, though his eyes momentarily shone with confusion.

"They don't understand him," Mycroft clarified, "Father doesn't either."

He wasn't sure why he was rambling but it felt nice to ramble.

"Father's not a bully," Mycroft finally muttered, "But he's stingy and uptight and cares more about his stupid conferences than he does about us."

He stopped and looked at the Doctor, almost expectantly. The Doctor looked back and finally said, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Mycroft said, slightly befuddled, "It's just…whenever I've tried to say that to anyone else, they always deny it."

The Doctor looked thoughtful before saying, "Well, I assume that you would know your father better than I would. After all, you've known him for twelve years. Sometimes people have mixed priorities. Has he always been like that?"

Mycroft nodded, still surprised that the Doctor believed him, and continued, "Yes but it's been worse since…"

He broke off and the Doctor prodded, "Since?"

"Mum."

The Doctor patiently waited for Mycroft to explain. It was a moment before Mycroft did and when he did he merely said, "It was two years ago. She was sick…"

Mycroft refused to say anything else and the Doctor quietly replied, "I'm sorry."

"It took forever for Sherlock to understand," Mycroft finally burst out, "My brother is brilliant—absolutely brilliant. But raw emotions have never been his strongest point. It was obvious that he missed her. At least there was that."

"And you?" the Doctor asked, "How did you feel?"

"Well, I knew that I needed to protect Sherlock," Mycroft stuttered, looking away, "I knew that he…he needed me."

"That's not what I asked," the Doctor patiently said, "How did _you _feel?"

"What do you mean?" Mycroft pressed, his ears flaming.

"Well, do you miss her?"

"Of…of course I do," Mycroft said, briskly, "She was my mother! But Sherlock's my brother and he's…"

The Doctor put a hand on his shoulder and interjected, "Sherlock is asleep. There's no need to protect him right now."

Mycroft looked shocked and for a moment grew vacant. Unbeknownst to him, it was the same look that Sherlock had when his father had stormed out of the nursery.

"Mycroft," the Doctor gently said.

As a wise woman once said, when you're very old and very kind and the very very last of your kind, it breaks your two hearts to watch a child cry.

And that's exactly what Mycroft did. He leaned against the Doctor's chest and broke down. In turn, the Doctor hugged him and even offered words of endearment.

"Thanks," Mycroft finally sighed, "I'm sorry…It's just…"

"I know," the Doctor passionately said, "Mycroft, I know. I know that it hurts."

And suddenly Mycroft could see it. Beneath the kindness and patience in the Doctor's eyes there was hurt and rage.

"Thank you," Mycroft said, sincerely repeated, "For everything. I just…it means a lot."

"You're welcome," the Doctor replied with a kind smile.

The two didn't say anything else. Instead, they sat back and watched the stars race by.

() () () () ()

There was a rather horrid nanny and her name was Nanny Scutt. She lazily bustled through the Holmes' household, occasionally shoving the dust off the banisters. Her bulging eyes were wide alert, looking for anything that might have a gold or silver tint.

We shan't speak much of Nanny Scutt. We must merely know that she was horrible at her job. If she had been a bit more alert, she might've wondered why there was a blue police box in the boys' nursery. But she didn't. Nor did she notice when a funny man in a bowtie gently placed two boys into their beds. She didn't know that both boys were fast asleep, worn out from an adventure that she couldn't possibly imagine. She didn't watch as the Doctor tenderly tucked the blankets around them. She didn't watch him put a key on the bedside table or sadly enter the blue police box. She didn't hear the whisper—the promise that he would return.

In fact, if you were to ask Nanny Scutt about the events that occurred that night, she would declare that nothing had happened at all. There was nothing tremendously out of the ordinary. Everything was perfectly ordinary. Everything was perfect normal.

() () () () ()

"Doctor!"

The cry escaped Sherlock before he even opened his eyes. He sat up and looked around, rubbing his eye. His heart sank as he realized that they were back in the nursery.

Sherlock leapt up and raced over, leaping onto Mycroft's bed.

"Come on!" Sherlock cried, tugging at his brother, "Wake up!"

"What…?" Mycroft opened his eyes and groaned, "Sherlock, what is it? What?"

"The Doctor!" Sherlock squealed, jumping up and down.

"The…Doctor?" Mycroft grunted before realizing what he meant, "Oh no!"

"What happened?" Sherlock asked, settling down and sitting on the edge of the bed, "He didn't even say goodbye."

"I don't know," Mycroft said with a heavy sigh, "It seems like a dream."

"It's unlikely that we both had the same dream," Sherlock pointed out, "And how do you explain that?"

He stared in wonder at the key on the bedside table. He picked it up and realized that it resembled a Tardis.

"He was real," Mycroft said, suddenly quite emotional.

"Sherlock! Mycroft! Hurry up!"

The door flew open and their father angrily scoffed, "You're not even dressed!"

"Father," Sherlock spoke up, "What day is it? Is it still April? Has any time passed?"

"What are you talking about, boy?" Mr. Holmes cried, "Have you gone round the bend?"

"Just around the universe," Sherlock answered with a slick smile.

"Sherlock," Mycroft hissed, anxiously shaking his head.

But Sherlock was far too excited to realize that his father was turning red. He bounced up and down and eagerly said, "You should have seen it, Father! A box! It was blue! She was. And she took us through time and space."

"Enough," Mr. Holmes snapped.

"Sherlock, stop it," Mycroft murmured, "Stop!"

"And there was the Doctor! He was fantastic! Absolutely brilliant! And we met actual pirates! Mycroft was the captain and we managed to…"

"ENOUGH!"

The roar shook the entire nursery and silenced Sherlock. Mycroft swallowed and hastily intervened, "It was a dream, Father. Sherlock had a funny dream."

"It wasn't a dream!" Sherlock cried.

"Yes it was," Mycroft said through clenched teeth.

Mr. Holmes still looked outraged but he managed to calm himself enough to say, "I don't have time for this."

He turned on his heel and marched away. Mycroft let out a sigh of relief but saw that his brother looked livid.

"It's alright," Mycroft assured him, "It's alright, Sherlock."

"You believe me, don't you?" Sherlock asked, "You believe in the Doctor."

"Of course I do," Mycroft cried, earnestly, "I was there. I remember him. I will never be able to forget him."

He hesitated before saying, "But Father…well…you heard him. He doesn't really have time for…to deal with…"

"The two of us," Sherlock glumly finished.

"The two of us," Mycroft repeated. He then saw how miserable Sherlock looked and sought to change that. He put an arm around his brother, giving him a reassuring smile that things were going to be alright. Things were going to be different. Sherlock eventually smiled back before glancing down at the key, his mind racing with the memories of their adventure.

"The Doctor had time for us," Sherlock whispered, "He had all the time in the universe."

Author's Note: I wanted to add the scene with Mycroft and the Doctor on the Tardis to add that more emotional connection. Sherlock and Mycroft are eventually going to become his companions though it will be almost two years before they do so. Let's just hope that it doesn't take two years for another update. Would you mind reviewing?


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I'm sorry! I know that I promised an update the next day and that was…oh, two weeks ago…but I have a wonderful explanation! You see, isn't time more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly…time-y…wimey…stuff…? No? Alright, I was getting ready to finish the chapter and Microsoft Word crashed seconds before I realized that I didn't save. So I had to completely rewrite the chapter. This chapter is where the 'official' story begins. It is set two years after their primary adventure with the Doctor. So without further ado…Geronimo!

Chapter Four

Sherlock was bored.

And in trouble.

It was remarkable how those two often went hand-in-hand.

He begrudgingly sat in the stiff chair, swinging his legs back and forth and picking at a thread in his shirt.

"Bored," Sherlock whispered.

The temp looked up, surveying him through her spectacles, before barking, "You can enter in just a few minutes. We're still waiting for your brother to come over."

"He doesn't have to come," Sherlock argued, "He didn't do anything wrong."

"And then there's the matter of your father," the temp continued, acting as though he hadn't spoken.

"He doesn't have to come, either," Sherlock muttered, "_I_ didn't do anything wrong."

She didn't answer which prompted him to sigh and glance around the office. He made a point to glare at the poster of the smiling flowers. How highly illogical—flowers didn't smile.

He was only jolted out of his thoughts when he heard the temp say, "Ah, Mycroft."

Mycroft had appeared, looking flustered and annoyed. He politely greeted the temp and forced a wide smile before sitting down next to his brother and hissing, "What did you do?"

"Flowers don't smile."

"What?"

"Flowers don't smile," Sherlock practically whined.

"Of course they don't," Mycroft agreed but still hissed, "What did you do?"

"I punched Anderson," Sherlock muttered, "Why are they smiling? It's irrational. They cannot smile. They don't even have faces."

"You punched Anderson?" Mycroft yelped.

"They're not supposed to be smiling."

"You punched Anderson?" Mycroft repeated.

"Yes," Sherlock said, distractedly, "Even if a flower could show emotions, what are the odds that they would all be happy?"

"Maybe they're forcing a smile to get through the day," Mycroft mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing," Mycroft sighed before once again repeating, "You punched Anderson?"

Sherlock didn't say anything and was merely glaring at the blasted poster on the wall

"I was pulled out of class for this," Mycroft hissed. Mycroft went to the school for upperclassmen, located just across the street. And yet everyday it still seemed as though he had to dash back over to the primary school to get Sherlock out of a sticky situation.

"Sherlock Holmes, are you listening?" Mycroft reprimanded.

"No."

"Sherlock."

"Mycroft," Sherlock taunted.

"Sherlock! Mycroft!"

The two brothers tensed. Their father had arrived, briefcase still in hand, and was looking furious. He stormed into the office and demanded, "Sherlock, what is the meaning of this?"

Sherlock didn't answer and instead lowered his gaze.

"Sherlock Holmes, I am talking to you," Mr. Holmes boomed.

When Sherlock spoke he merely whispered, "Flowers don't smile."

() () () () ()

"This is the fourth incident, this month!"

"Yes, Headmaster Piper," Mycroft spoke when his brother refused to say anything, "I am terribly sorry. I don't know what came over my brother."

Headmaster Piper was as stiff as a poker and couldn't be bothered with such irrational things as happiness and understanding. His patience was as thin as his hair and Sherlock was causing both to rapidly diminish.

"Well, Sherlock?" Mr. Holmes barked, "Do you have anything to say?"

"Anderson is an idiot," Sherlock muttered, staring at a snag in the rug, "You really ought to suspend him, Headmaster. It will bring entire school's intelligence up."

"Sherlock," Mycroft whispered, "Not now."

"You punched Anderson because he wasn't as smart as you?" Piper asked, attempting to get the full story.

"No," Sherlock said, looking slightly annoyed. Wasn't he listening?

"Sherlock Holmes, look at me when I'm talking to you," Headmaster Piper snapped.

"What for?" Sherlock haughtily remarked.

"It is the polite thing to do," Mr. Holmes barked, "I've raised you to know that."

"It's a formality," Sherlock mumbled, "It's useless and degrading. What I have to say does not change depending on where I look."

"Sherlock," Mycroft whispered in what he hoped was a somewhat stern tone, but he already knew that he was losing an ongoing battle. For as long as he could remember, he was one of the only people with whom Sherlock would make eye-contact.

Sherlock raised his head but stared at the wall behind Piper and explained, "I punched Anderson because he was teasing me."

Mycroft sighed, figuring as much. Although he wasn't sure if he wanted to know, he found himself asking, "What did he say?"

Sherlock hesitated and said, "Well…I was examining this."

He pulled something out of his pocket. Mycroft's eyes widened ever so slightly as he recognized the key that resembled the Tardis.

"Anderson kept asking about it," Sherlock explained, "So I told him that it was a present from the Doctor…"

"The Doctor?" Mr. Holmes interrupted, "Sherlock, you are not still going on about that blasted dream of yours? It was two years ago! I would have thought that…"

"It wasn't a dream!"

"Let it go," Mycroft urgently hissed, "Sherlock, please. Not now."

Sherlock still looked angry but he begrudgingly continued, "Anderson told me that the only doctor I should be seeing is a psychiatrist."

For a second, Mycroft felt as though he would rather like to strike Anderson.

"Regardless. Fighting is against school policy," Piper briskly said, "I'm afraid that I have no choice, boy. You are suspended for a month."

Sherlock didn't look the least bit remorseful. He didn't really care for school. The things that he learned in class were things that he had read about, years ago. His classmates were dull and ignorant. Thirty minutes of time that could be spent studying was spent in a gymnasium. He had to memorize people's names instead of learning about them in depth. Not to mention that whenever he tried to complain about this, his classmates would sneer or laugh. Suspension was honestly not that much of a threat. Mycroft didn't seem to agree.

"Suspension?" Mycroft cried, "Headmaster that's completely outrageous!"

"Watch your tone!" Mr. Holmes scolded.

"Sorry," Mycroft said, shamefaced, "C…couldn't he do something else? Please, sir? He could apologize to Anderson and stay after school for two weeks to write lines."

Sherlock glared at him and Mycroft returned it. After all, he was trying to diminish his brother's punishment.

"A month," Piper said, after a moment of thought.

"Absolutely not," Sherlock cried, completely aghast.

"It's just lines," Mycroft assured him, "It's not so bad."

"I'm not apologizing," Sherlock firmly remarked.

"You're joking," Mycroft whispered, "Sherlock, you don't even have to mean it! Just say the words and you don't have to be suspended."

"I'm not apologizing."

"Then I have no choice," Piper snapped, "Sherlock Holmes, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to suspend you."

On the contrary, he didn't look sorry at all.

"No!" Mycroft howled, "You can't do that!"

"I told you to watch your tone," Mr. Holmes growled.

"This is completely ludicrous," Mycroft angrily scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Would you like to join him?" Piper snapped, "I'm sure that I can call Headmaster Dibble and make the arrangements."

"That's not fair!" Sherlock burst out and Mycroft nearly felt touched. The warm feeling quickly subsided as Sherlock continued, "Just because you and your wife are fighting, that doesn't mean that you have to make everyone else miserable."

Piper looked outraged, "Well I've never! Who told you…?"

"Nobody," Sherlock replied with a smug smile.

"You're seven-years old!" Piper hissed, slamming his hand on the desk, "You couldn't have possibly figured that out!"

Sherlock glared at him for a moment before quietly saying, "You really oughtn't to encourage eye-contact, Headmaster. As soon as I looked at you, I noticed that they're bloodshot which indicates that you have recently been upset. The dark circles beneath the eyes and the large mug of coffee on the desk shows that you didn't get to sleep last night."

Piper spluttered and Sherlock continued, "Also, you aren't wearing your wedding band."

"Sherlock," Mycroft groaned and buried his face in his hands, "Don't push it."

"Oh don't pretend that you didn't notice," Sherlock snapped.

Mycroft opened his mouth but couldn't deny it. Unlike his brother, however, he wasn't going to point it out. Sherlock gave him a small smile, happy to know that he wasn't alone.

"If we could please get back to your suspensions," Piper huffed, mopping his brow with his handkerchief.

"Outrageous," Mr. Holmes muttered.

Sherlock and Mycroft glanced at each other, surprised. Perhaps their father would actually come through for them. Instead, Mr. Holmes merely mumbled to himself, "Both boys suspended! What will I say at the office?"

"This is…" Mycroft refrained himself from swearing and rephrased, "Sir, please. I didn't do anything wrong. I have perfect attendance and a nearly perfect record."

Piper sighed and looked slightly remorseful as he said, "Mycroft, you were one of my best students. I would honestly hate to punish you. However, you have to watch that tongue of yours. It's not nearly as bad as your brothers but it can still be sour. But…I suppose that you are right. There is no need to punish you."

"Thank you," Mycroft said, though he couldn't hide his surprised look.

Piper gave him a twisted smile and said, "Now that that's settled, perhaps it would be best if you waited outside."

Mycroft glanced from him to Sherlock and back again before saying, "No."

"Pardon?"

"I'm not leaving him," Mycroft firmly said.

Piper sighed and snapped, "Fine. Sherlock Holmes, I will give you one more chance. I shan't suspend you, if you can muster up enough decency to apologize to me for your earlier behavior and Anderson for your actions."

"No," Sherlock said, without any hesitation.

"You daft little boy," Piper snapped, ruffling through the proper paperwork to formally suspend him.

Daft. Daft little boy. Daft.

Sherlock's eyes momentarily sparkled with tears and his bottom lip quivered.

Mycroft gave the Headmaster a fiery glare and snapped, "Go to hell."

Well, that did it.

Soon both Piper and Mr. Holmes were bellowing at him for using such disrespectful and inappropriate language. The temp poked her head in and began to scream to see what the screaming was about. They just kept yelling, _**yelling**_, YELLING!

The yelling was too much for Sherlock who closed his eyes and covered his ears. When that didn't seem to block out the noise, he felt the key in his hand. He thought of the Tardis. He could practically hear the Tardis.

He _could_ hear Tardis.

Sherlock's eyes flew open. He leapt up and raced over to the window. The action seemed to quiet the room and everyone turned to look at him.

"No way," Sherlock whispered as he caught sight of the brilliant blue police-box, sitting next to the swings on the playground, "Mycroft! It's back!"

Mycroft slowly stood up and joined him. For a moment, he could only stare. Then, as if reassuring himself, he whispered, "It _wasn't_ a dream."

"Get back to your seats!" Piper roared.

Mycroft flinched and headed back towards his seat but Sherlock spun around and headed straight towards the door. Piper firmly shut it and angrily remarked, "You're not going anywhere until we…what the blazes do you think you're doing?"

In a matter of seconds Sherlock had raced back across the room, had flung open the window, and was now standing on the rickety fire-escape.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft cried, horrified, "Get back in here!"

"Mycroft," Sherlock said, "It's the Doctor."

He said it as though it excused everything else and in a way it did. Mycroft hesitated for a split second before crawling through the window.

"Mycroft Holmes!" Mr. Holmes shouted, "Get back in here! Now!"

"Go!" Mycroft urged, gently pushing his brother.

The fire-escape creaked and groaned under their weight—even more so when Piper and Mr. Holmes climbed after them. The two brothers quickly descended the wrought-iron stairs, careful to not lose their footing. Unfortunately, the stairs simply seemed to stop several meters from the ground. Mr. Holmes and Piper were drawing closer to them.

"Geronimo," Mycroft whispered and jumped. His knees buckled as he landed but he still managed to steady himself and turned around to catch Sherlock. He pelted across the garden and his brother tightened his arms around his neck, nearly choking him. Unfortunately, they weren't the only ones who had spotted the police box.

Several students were gawking and pointing, coming over for a closer look.

"Get away from her!" Sherlock cried.

"Her?" Anderson stepped forward from the group, his eye blackened and his mouth pulled into a sneer, "You ought to work on your pronouns, Holmes."

"Nice eye, Anderson," Mycroft muttered, "Now step aside or I'll make you."

"You can't do that!" Anderson gasped.

"I'm already suspended," Mycroft threatened, "Try me."

"Blimey Mycroft," Sherlock whispered, looking very impressed, "Telling Piper to go to hell. Threatening Anderson…"

"Oh hush," Mycroft whispered, hoping that Anderson didn't see through his bluff. He surprisingly stepped aside but not before giving the brothers sour looks. Sherlock leapt down from Mycroft's arms and gently placed the key into the keyhole.

There was a click and the door swung open. The Doctor stood just beyond it with a wide smile spreading across his face as he excitedly cried, "Miss me?"

"Doctor!"

The Time Lord happily pulled them both brothers into a tight hug. Mycroft and Sherlock warmly returned it.

"Will somebody please explain what's going on?" Piper screamed as he and Mr. Holmes finally caught up with them.

The Doctor straightened up and said, "Ah. Yes. Hello. I'm the Doctor."

"Preposterous," Mr. Holmes barked.

"No, the Doctor," the Doctor corrected.

"He's real," Sherlock firmly said, "He's real! I told you."

"Of course I'm real," the Doctor said, looking surprised, "Who said that I wasn't?"

"Father," Sherlock and Mycroft both chorused. The Doctor no longer looked surprised.

"You would have me believe that this is the man from your ridiculous stories?" Mr. Holmes skeptically scoffed, "Nonsense!"

"Calm yourself, Mister Holmes," Piper adjusted his stiff tie and said, "So, you're a doctor? Are you here to observe the students?"

"Err…sure," the Doctor replied with a shrug.

"Well," Piper tried to look important as he coldly said, "You don't want to bother yourself with these two students."

"Oh, I just might," the Doctor said with a tilt of the head and a smile.

"Trust me," Piper assured him, "In fact, they shouldn't even be counted as students. They were just suspended."

"Suspended?" the Doctor yelped, shocked, "For what?"

"I told him to go to hell," Mycroft guiltily admitted.

The Doctor relaxed and softly said, "Oh! I've been there. I wouldn't recommend it."

Mycroft still looked guilty and the Doctor gently smiled and bracingly said, "Hey, cheer up. Listen to me. Suspension isn't the end of the world."

"Yeah," Mycroft bitterly sighed, "How would you know?"

"I'm the Doctor! Believe me; I should know what constitutes as the end of the world and it isn't suspension!"

Mycroft chuckled at this, feeling considerably better.

"Excuse me?" Mr. Holmes thundered, "Who the ruddy hell do you think you are to dismiss my son's punishment?"

The Doctor merely stared at him for a moment before quietly saying, "I think that I'm the ruddy Doctor."

Piper cleared his throat and said, "Now…ah….Doctor, if you want to see one of my prized students, might I recommend young Anderson?"

"What happened to your eye?" the Doctor asked, bending down to observe the boy.

"I punched it," Sherlock muttered.

The Doctor's mouth twitched and he straightened up, "Might I ask?"

"He didn't believe in you either," Sherlock muttered.

The Doctor softened but his reply was drowned out as Anderson spoke up, "Like I said before, the only special doctor that these two should be seeing is a bloody shrink!"

"Oh, you're a nasty little brat aren't you?"

Sherlock and Mycroft both laughed at the Doctor's mumbled remark.

"Nice deduction, Doctor," Sherlock praised.

"That's enough," Mr. Holmes snapped, "There's no such thing as the Doctor."

"He's standing right in front of you!" Sherlock cried, "How can you deny that he exists?"

The Doctor grimaced and quietly said, "Oh you'd be surprised at how many people reject what's right in front of them."

"Preposterous!" Mr. Holmes shouted, "Sherlock, Mycroft…I insist that you forget about this ludicrous…poppycock…get to the car. Now! I don't have time for…Sherlock Holmes, look me in the eye when I am talking to you!"

Sherlock cringed and the Doctor put a hand on his shoulder. For the first time since the brothers had known him, the Doctor looked angry. At first, the boys were terrified with the thought that he was angry at them. He then stepped forward and towered over their father, coldly saying, "You want to look somebody in the eye? Fine. Look at me. Look at my eyes. They're old. Older than you can possible imagine. Twelve-hundred years old and they've seen many things because they aren't human. They're Time Lord. I'm not human. I am a Time Lord. I am the Doctor and I don't appreciate parents who yell at their children."

Mycroft and Sherlock could only stare in awe and admiration. Mr. Holmes with shaking with anger. Through clenched teeth he whispered, "Sherlock…Mycroft…car…now."

"No," Sherlock boldly said, "I don't want to go with you! I want to go with the Doctor."

"Can we?" Mycroft added, hopefully, "Can we go with you?"

"Of course you can," the Doctor replied, as if Mycroft even had to ask, "I'm certainly not leaving you here."

Mycroft and Sherlock glanced at one another and sadly realized that there was nothing for them here. They were suspended from school. They didn't really have any friends or anyone else who might miss them. Their father was heartless and Mycroft didn't want to imagine the punishment that they might receive when they got home. Their father certainly wasn't abusive but he wasn't above an occasional spanking or a night in the bedroom without dinner. He would also yell and without the Doctor to stop him, there would be a lot of yelling. Quite frankly, the two were sick of the yelling.

And yet with the Doctor…they could travel across the universe. They could go anywhere in time in the Tardis. And they would be with the Doctor!

Mr. Holmes was yelling again but the brothers had tuned him out. They excitedly turned to the Doctor who laughed at their excitement and cried, "Geronimo!"

Mr. Holmes angrily started forward but the Doctor suddenly withdrew the Sonic Screwdriver and clicked it. Mr. Holmes' briefcase suddenly sprang open and his papers went flying. He cried out and tried to catch them, giving the three the chance to duck into the Tardis.

Mycroft locked the door for good measure and Sherlock pocketed his key but not before asking, "Why did you leave the key if you were just going to be on the other side of the door?"

"I had to make sure that you wanted to come in," the Doctor explained with a smile.

"Of course we did," Sherlock firmly answered.

Mycroft nodded in agreement and the Doctor grinned before roaring, "Geronimo!"

The two brothers laughed and repeated, "Geronimo!"


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay! I was on vacation.

Chapter Five

"You broke our vase!"

"In my defence, it was a rather horrible vase."

Mycroft rolled his eyes but couldn't disagree.

The Doctor had managed to squeeze the Tardis into the cramped parlor but there were several casualties. One of which was a particularly stingy vase given as a Christmas present from a particularly stingy aunt. Sherlock snorted as the Time Lord brushed the shards beneath the rug but immediately quieted when Mycroft glanced over. He raised an eyebrow at their innocent looks but didn't comment.

"Okay," the Doctor hastily said, "Grab anything that you want to take and make it quick because I think that I'm about to be charged with kidnapping. That hasn't happened in a while."

Sherlock immediately bounded off to the nursery to look for things to grab but Mycroft couldn't think of anything to take. He really didn't have much. There was nothing in his bedroom but a bed, desk, and wardrobe. The Doctor assured him that all three things were on the Tardis. Mycroft couldn't help but to notice the disgusted look that passed the Doctor's face as he looked around the bedroom. Well, Mycroft was disgusted with it as well. He supposed that prisoners had cells that were more colorful. It was certainly a spacious room and the furniture was from the very best stores. But it was as dull as Headmaster Piper's voice. Mycroft finally thought of something that he wanted to take. He pulled his mattress aside to reveal a single record beneath.

The Beatles. He carefully picked it up and felt a small rush of admiration.

"What's that?"

Mycroft jumped and the record slipped from his fingers. The Doctor quickly apologized and skillfully caught it.

"Thanks," Mycroft sighed with relief, "It was our mum's favorite band."

The Doctor softened and brightly said, "Would you want to see a concert?"

"I would love to," Mycroft exclaimed, "But haven't they broken up?"

The Doctor stared at him for a moment before saying, "Time Lord. Tardis."

"Right," Mycroft sheepishly said, "Sorry."

The two went back into the parlor and saw that Sherlock was eagerly bouncing on his heels, his possessions piled in his arms.

"Did you grab the toothbrushes?" Mycroft asked.

"Yes."

"Sherlock."

Sherlock guiltily hung his head.

"I have some," the Doctor said, reassuringly, "But I have to ask…what are those?"

He glanced at the assortment of toys in Sherlock's arms. A few action figures, several puzzles, a yoyo, marbles, the typically mundane toys that one might expect to find in the waiting room of a dentist office. The only thing that made Mycroft smile was the wooden sword.

"They're my toys," Sherlock explained.

"No," the Doctor flatly said, "You're not bringing those onto the Tardis."

Both brothers exchanged surprised looks.

"Except the wooden sword," the Doctor added, "Wooden swords are cool."

"I can't bring my toys?" Sherlock asked, looking slightly deflated.

"Toys," the Doctor scoffed, "No…no, you're not bringing those."

"Why not?" Mycroft asked, defensively, "Why can't he bring them?"

The Doctor looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head, "Well, just look at them!"

Sherlock surprisingly complied. After all, he supposed that traveling in the Tardis with the Doctor was worth leaving behind a few toys. He dropped the pile in the doorway of the nursery and quickly ran back to the others.

"Now," the Doctor quietly said, "Are you two sure that you want to go with me? It could be dangerous."

Mycroft chuckled as Sherlock's eyes lit up with excitement and he answered for the both of them, "We're sure."

The Doctor smiled and opened the door, ushering the two brothers inside.

"Right," the Doctor cried, "I have a few ideas and I'm open to suggestions but there is one place that we need to go first and foremost."

He shut the door and raced over to the console. Sherlock and Mycroft eagerly held on as the box began to tremble and hum. When it finally ceased to shake, the Doctor nodded for Sherlock to reopen the door. The two brothers blinked as their eyes adjusted to the light. When their destination finally came into focus, both brothers' jaws crashed to the floor.

"Oh wow…" Sherlock whispered, "No way…"

"Blimey," Mycroft managed to splutter.

The Tardis had landed in a large store. Large was a bit of an understatement. Mycroft had to crane his neck to see the ceiling. Stairs and elevators led up to different platforms. Shelves stretched for miles. And it was quite clear what the main inventory of the store was:

Toys.

Millions of toys. Billions.

"The largest toy-store in the universe," the Doctor proudly explained, "A much better selection than a few puzzles and marbles, don't you think?"

"You're joking?" Sherlock whispered.

The Doctor merely laughed and raced past them, "Come on!"

The two excitedly followed and Mycroft grabbed Sherlock's hand to keep him from wandering off. The three raced down aisles, gawking at the amazing toys. Mycroft promptly decided that children on Earth were at an extreme disadvantage. Mycroft and Sherlock had never really had a lot of toys for obvious reasons—their father being the main one—but the three played with toys that could have made other children's heads spin. The Doctor climbed onto a pogo-stick that bounced across the air. Mycroft and Sherlock followed him in a life-sized model-train. They had every single toy that the brothers could imagine and thousands more. Toys that flew, toys that swam, toys that walked, toys that talked, toys for boys, toys for girls, toys for androgynous children, toys for aliens and humans alike…everything from trading cards that projected holograms of the player to a roller coaster that zoomed at light-speed. From robots to stuffed animals, from zero-gravity snowboards to bottomless swimming pools, they had everything! And then there were the basics like marbles, sidewalk chalk, and bubbles. Sherlock got quite a surprise when he went to toss some marbles and they ended up exploding. Mycroft was in awe when his chalk-drawings came to life and ran around him. And the Doctor blew bubbles that engulfed the boys and carried them high into the air.

More than once, Sherlock wondered if he was going to have a heart-attack and die before he had a chance to properly travel with the Doctor. Mycroft seemed just as excited, even if he tried to pass off as nonchalant. The Doctor looked like a five-year old as he piled several carts high with an assortment of items. He didn't object to anything that the boys brought over.

Sherlock found a large teddy-bear with a red bowtie on it and eagerly cried, "Look! It looks just like you!"

He commenced to carry it around the store, refusing to let it go.

The day slipped away and soon a shrill voice filled the aisles:

THE STORE WILL BE CLOSING IN FIVE MINUTES. PLEASE PREPARE.

"Aw," Mycroft muttered and Sherlock sadly frowned.

The Doctor merely winked and said, "Don't worry."

He walked over to an employee and pulled out that strange piece of paper from earlier, loudly saying, "We are Toy Inspectors and shall be staying after the store closes."

The employee nodded, looking slightly dazed, and said, "Very well."

"How did you do that?" Sherlock whispered as the Doctor came back over.

"Psychic paper," the Doctor explained, "It shows the person what I want it to. See, I just showed him a Toy Inspector badge."

He showed it to Sherlock who glanced at the Doctor, and confusedly said, "There isn't a badge. There's…nothing."

Mycroft leaned over and confirmed it, "It's completely blank."

"Oh that's brilliant," the Doctor replied with a smile, "That's…brilliant, really."

They watched as the other customers glumly left and the employees followed. Soon they were the only ones in the store.

The lights threatened to go off but the Doctor calmly clicked the Sonic Screwdriver and they stayed on. Mycroft wandered to the Sports Section. He had never been that fond of sports but he was still excited to see the amount of alien-sports that existed. He picked up a strange bat that was nothing more than a handle and force-field. He suddenly felt something hit him in the shoulder. It was a small, spikey, ball and seemed to come from an automatic shooter. Several other balls shot out and hit him.

"Ouch!" Mycroft cried, "Oi, quit it! Sherlock! Shut that off!"

He angrily glanced around, trying to find where his brother was hiding. Meanwhile, the balls increased their pace. Every single one seemed to hit him, no matter how much he ducked or dodged. He eventually put his hands up, shielding himself.

He looked up in time to see the Doctor fly in on a hang-glider and click the Sonic Screwdriver. The machine slowly stopped and Mycroft let out a sigh of relief.

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked, surveying the small cuts on his hands.

"No," Mycroft huffed, "Sherlock Holmes that was not funny!"

"What wasn't?" Sherlock asked, coming up behind him.

"Turning on the automatic shooter," Mycroft snapped, "I could have gotten hurt."

"I didn't do anything!" Sherlock argued.

"Sherlock, don't lie."

"I'm not!"

"Boys," the Doctor broke their argument by saying, "We may have a problem."

"What?" Mycroft asked, still annoyed.

"Bowling balls."

"What?"

"Bowling balls," the Doctor repeated.

Mycroft and Sherlock turned and groaned. Several bowling balls were rising into the air.

"Are they supposed to do that?" Sherlock nervously asked.

"No!"

The Doctor picked up the force-field bat and swung as the balls zoomed towards them. It managed to knock the balls away long enough for the three to vamoose.

"Doctor, what's going on?" Sherlock anxiously cried.

The Doctor pulled the two around the corner and explained, "It's quite simple. The toys are coming to life."

Author's Note: Cliché plotline, I know. But I just couldn't pass over the opportunity to have the Doctor, Sherlock, and Mycroft be in a giant toy-store.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Two chapters today!

Chapter Six

"The toys are coming to life!?"

The Doctor hushed Mycroft who glowered before hissing, "What does that even mean?"

"Well…they're toys," the Doctor explained, "And they're coming to life."

"That's impossible," Sherlock started before gasping. The bear that he had been squeezing was now squeezing him back!

"Leave him alone!" Mycroft cried, ripping the bear away and holding it at arm's length.

"Easy," the Doctor gently said, "He's scared."

"Scared?" Mycroft scoffed before seeing that the Doctor was right. The bear was trembling and blinking up at Mycroft who felt slightly guilty, "Err…sorry?"

The bear gave him a rather annoyed look and Mycroft defensively said, "I thought that you were strangling him."

It continued to frown and Mycroft heatedly snapped, "Look, I said that I was sorry. I'm not about to have a row with a teddy bear!"

"Of course not," the Doctor agreed, "He's our ally."

Mycroft snorted but saw that the Doctor was perfectly serious. Sherlock took the bear back and hugged him. The three then spun around and watched as the other toys leapt from the shelves.

"Are _they_ our allies?" Mycroft nervously asked.

The three watched as a row of tin soldiers raised their guns.

"Nope," the Doctor exclaimed, "Run!"

"They're toys!" Sherlock cried as they raced away, "How can they possibly hurt us?"

He then yelped in pain as a laser hit him, courtesy of an overhead helicopter.

The Doctor clicked the Sonic Screwdriver and the helicopter came crashing down.

Mycroft quickly grabbed Sherlock and pulled him out of the way. He was annoyed to see that his brother had other priorities. Sherlock was anxiously glancing at the stuffed bear. It was completely still.

"We'll fix it later," the Doctor promised, "Come on."

They continued to run. Action figures were racing along the shelves, balls were bouncing down the aisles, stuffed animals were swinging from the lights, and small cars were zooming around his feet. The three turned the corner and the two brothers gasped.

They were standing in a long aisle of baby dolls. The dolls giggled and gurgled as they tottered towards them.

"Bloody hell," Mycroft whispered.

The Doctor urgently prodded him and grabbed Sherlock's hand, silently telling them to keep running. They raced down the aisle, squeamishly watching as the dolls turned towards them. The Doctor lifted the Sonic Screwdriver but he fumbled and accidentally dropped it. He spun around, tripped over his own feet, and fell.

"I've got it," Sherlock gasped, racing back and picking it up. He looked up and saw that the dolls were coming dangerously close. As a last resort, he clicked the top button.

The Sonic Screwdriver opened and emitted the high-pitched noise. To his relief, the dolls collapsed. Surprisingly, the bear squirmed in his arms.

"That's it," Sherlock excitedly cried as Mycroft helped the Doctor to his feet, "That's how they're coming to life. It has something to do with the Screwdriver."

The Doctor motioned for them to duck into a cupboard. He closed the door and the three eagerly looked at the moving bear. Sherlock clicked the Sonic Screwdriver and the bear became limp. Another click and it leapt back up.

"O_kay_," the Doctor slowly said, "Good to know."

The door suddenly opened and the three screamed. A fourth screamed matched and they realized that they were staring at an employee.

The poor man defensively put up his hands and gasped, "Don't hurt me! I don't have any money! I'm just the stock boy!"

"Easy, easy," the Doctor gently said, "Nobody's going to hurt you."

"We're Toy Inspectors," Sherlock smoothly lied.

"You ought to clear out of here," Mycroft advised, "Something's wrong with the toys."

The Doctor poked his head out the door, observed the situation, and said, "If you follow that aisle over there, you should be able to get to the south-side of the store where you can escape out the Emergency door."

The employee merely gaped and Sherlock commanded, "To the south! Quick march!"

"That's an order!" Mycroft boldly added.

The trembling man had enough nerve to stutter, "Whose orders?"

"Captain Mycroft's orders," Mycroft snapped, "The south-side! March!"

The employee quickly raced away.

The Doctor laughed but said, "You do realize that you have no jurisdiction off of your ship."

"We need to follow him," Sherlock suddenly burst out.

"We don't run away from a battle," the Doctor gently said.

Sherlock frowned and haughtily replied, "Who said anything about running away? Did you see it, Mycroft?"

"See what?"

"The earmuffs."

"Earmuffs?"

Sherlock sighed and accusingly said, "You didn't observe him?"

"He was an employee," Mycroft spluttered, "I was a bit busy trying to make sure that the toys weren't about to get him."

"But _he_ wasn't," Sherlock pointed out, "He didn't even seem that alarmed by the toys."

"As if he already knew that they were coming to life," Mycroft concluded, "But what does that have to do with the ear-muffs?"

Sherlock didn't answer. He was staring off into space but Mycroft knew that was deeply thinking. Thinking, observing, concluding. Meanwhile, the Doctor was leaning against the door, trying to keep the toys from barging in. Mycroft traded places, too distracted to join his brother in his deducing. The Doctor stared at Sherlock, patient and eager.

"Got it," Sherlock suddenly whispered. His eyes focused and he suddenly looked quite pleased with himself, "Got it!"

"Brilliant," Mycroft congratulated. He spun around to glance through the keyhole and noticed that the toys were escalating. They even had several model-tanks. Sherlock once again clicked the Sonic. His bear fell limp along with the first aisle of toys. It still wasn't strong enough.

"Come along," the Doctor exclaimed, pointing to an air-vent. They climbed inside.

"We should be able to cut him off," Sherlock gasped as they quickly crawled.

"How do we know where he's going?" Mycroft asked.

Sherlock raised the Sonic and clicked it. The sharp sound emitted. He continued to hold down the button as they crawled along. After several moments the Doctor eagerly said, "Aha; I hear it. Interference!"

"Right," Sherlock beamed, "Just as expected!"

"There's another device," Mycroft smartly concluded.

"That sends out a beam," Sherlock added, glancing at the stuffed bear that was crawling alongside him.

"Which causes the toys to come to life," the Doctor finished.

As they continued foreword, the shrillness of the interference caused Mycroft to cover his ears. He turned to the Doctor and grunted, "I don't suppose that you have any…"

"Earmuffs?" Sherlock interjected.

"You don't think…" Mycroft gasped.

"Of course I think," Sherlock snapped, "And apparently I'm thinking more than you because I've just figured out that the employee is the one behind it. Keep up, Mycroft."

"My apologies," Mycroft rolled his eyes, "So where did the employee go?"

"He's a stock boy," Sherlock vigorously said, "Where else but the stockroom?"

The three slid down into the dusty room. The Holmes' brothers quickly looked around, the latter finally pointing. A black box was mixed with the cartons. The employee was anxiously kneeling next to it, pushing buttons.

"It's not yours, actually," the Doctor cheerfully cried, "I'm afraid that my beam was the one that caused them to come to life."

The employee froze and turned as the Time Lord quietly said, "Hello. I'm the Doctor."

The Doctor calmly leaned against the box and whimsically said, "I must admit that it was all very clever. When Sherlock scanned the bear, I could immediately see that it was controlled by an implanted chip which was activated when the beam hit."

"But how could a chip make it come to life?" Mycroft asked.

"It's an alien chip," the Doctor explained, "Alien technology. The only thing that I can't figure out is why waste this wonderful technology on a toy shop?"

"Look at his shoes," Sherlock muttered, "They're old and tattered. I'm willing to bet that it's the only pair that he has because it's the only pair that he can afford."

"This is the biggest toy-store in the universe," Mycroft jumped in, "Thousands of purchases a day. That's a lot of money in the vaults."

"But he's not stupid," Sherlock eagerly cried, "Scared but not stupid. He doesn't want his fingerprints on anything suspicious."

"So he puts the chips into the toys," Mycroft explains, "And sends the toys to get the money; getting rid of anyone in its way!"

"But he didn't get to it tonight," Sherlock said, "Doctor, when you used the Sonic to keep the lights on, you triggered the first few chips. Every other time it was clicked caused more chips to activate and the previous chips to deactivate.

"We were in the vents," Mycroft suddenly said, "And holding down the Sonic. That means that the other chips could have been activated."

Sherlock exasperatedly closed his eyes.

"Not to worry," the Doctor calmly said, "His device is clever but mine is cleverer. And together the two can be very cleverer-er."

The two brothers gave him a skeptical glance and he pulled two pairs of earmuffs out of his pocket and handed them over. The brothers quickly put them on, realizing what he was going to do. Sherlock handed him the Sonic and he clicked it. Even with the headphones, the two could still hear the agonizing sound that was heightened by the Sonic. They opened the doors and the sound wafted through the entire store. The toys immediately collapsed, the windows immediately shattered, and the alarms sounded. In a matter of several minutes, security had quickly arrived. They tackled the employee to the ground and dragged him off.

The head guard immediately shook the Time Lord's hand and said, "Doctor! I knew that you would be the one to get to the bottom of this!"

"Does everyone know you?" Mycroft muttered as they removed the earmuffs.

"The Doctor's a frequent visitor," the guard laughed, "I was going to call him in a few days to see if he could help. But as usual he's already on it."

"Yeah," the Doctor sheepishly said, "Honestly, we just stopped by to pick up some toys."

The guard shocked and pleased them by saying that they could take anything on the house. Sherlock glanced down at the stuffed bear, which was completely still. He eagerly took the Sonic and clicked it but nothing happened.

The Doctor smiled and patiently said, "The blast overwhelmed all of the chips. It's just a stuffed bear, I'm afraid."

Sherlock kept it, nonetheless.

The three made their way through the store, practically collecting one of each toy.

"You said 'on the house'," the Doctor cried, upon seeing the guard's annoyed look.

Before he could object, the three hastily raced into the Tardis. The piles of toys practically consumed the console.

"Now," the Doctor quietly said, "You two saw how dangerous it can get. Are you sure that you still want to travel with me?"

"Of course!"

"Absolutely."

A grin spread across his face and he eagerly said, "Alright then! Let's stow these into your bedroom."

"Will they fit?" Mycroft asked.

The Doctor gave him a weird look and led them down the corridor. He opened a pair of double-doors to reveal a humongous and bright room. Two large beds sat along the wall, leaving the rest of the space open to possibilities.

"Whoa," Sherlock whispered, pointing.

"Wicked," Mycroft breathed. The ceiling was a giant glass dome which looked out to the millions of stars.

"How is that possible?" Mycroft slowly asked, "We are in a police box. The last time I checked there wasn't a huge dome…"

He broke off, slightly befuddled.

The Doctor laughed and gently said, "Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes, you are now my companions. Anything is possible."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Sherlock's breakfast was crawling away from him. He nudged it with a fork and it scurried back onto its plate.

"Err…Doctor," Mycroft said, as he watched his own breakfast leap from the table, "I normally enjoy a wide variety of food but…"

The Doctor laughed and teasingly replied, "You said that you wanted to eat something alien. The Tardis complied."

"I didn't mean that I wanted to eat an alien!" Mycroft cried.

The Time Lord merely grinned and said, "Fine. What do you two eat for breakfast?"

"Toast and porridge," Mycroft declared.

Next to him, Sherlock groaned and said, "We've eaten toast and porridge for years!"

"It's nutritious," Mycroft patiently said.

"It's boring!" Sherlock cried, "You're on the other side of the universe! You don't have to keep following your diet."

Mycroft raised his eyebrow and smugly said, "Fine. Can we have cake?"

"Great idea," the Doctor exclaimed, "Let them eat cake."

A small box on the console buzzed and a large cake appeared.

"Nice," Mycroft complimented.

The three excitedly dug in, while their previous breakfasts scurried away.

The Doctor swallowed a mouthful of frosting and asked, "So, how'd you sleep?"

"Better than I have in years," Mycroft admitted.

After the Doctor had shown them the bathroom and wardrobe, the two brothers had crawled into their beds—the comfiest beds that they've had ever been in. The Doctor had been nice enough to tuck Sherlock in, had asked if Mycroft needed anything, had promised that he would be in the main console room if they needed anything, and had gently said goodnight before leaving them to stare at the stars.

"He tucked me in," Sherlock had said.

Mycroft was usually the one who tucked Sherlock in at home. Their mother always used to—she would tuck the both of them in—but their father was less than understanding.

"The position of your blankets shouldn't matter when you're sleeping," Mr. Holmes had coldly said.

Unfortunately, the next day Mr. Holmes had been displeased when he had asked Sherlock to make his bed and Sherlock had commented that the position of his blankets shouldn't matter in the daytime.

Mycroft now glanced down at Sherlock and was amused to see that his brother wasn't paying attention. Instead, Sherlock was deeply thinking. His hands were folded, resting just beneath his chin, and his eyes were glazed over.

Mycroft grinned and said, "One."

"One," Sherlock absentmindedly said.

"Two," Mycroft replied.

"Three."

"Five," Mycroft prodded.

"Eight."

"Thirteen."

"Twenty-one."

By now, Sherlock had focused and was smiling. The two glanced over at the Doctor who was carefully observing them. He looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "Thirty-four."

Their smiles widened and Sherlock replied, "Fifty-five."

"Eighty-nine," Mycroft answered.

"144," the Doctor added.

"233."

"377."

"610."

It wasn't much. Just numbers. At first glance, they might have even seemed random. But to the three of them, it was a conversation; a powerful one at that.

"Can we take a tour of the Tardis later?" Sherlock eagerly asked.

"Sure," the Doctor agreed, "But right now, we have business to attend to. I received a call earlier this morning. Ready to go?"

They eagerly nodded and the Doctor pushed aside the cake to tinker with the buttons.

"Where are we?" Sherlock eagerly asked, once the shaking had stopped.

"Earth," the Doctor explained, "Year 4962."

"Three thousand years into the future?" Mycroft gaped.

"Give or take a few," the Doctor replied.

"Why are we here?" Sherlock asked, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted, "Shall we?"

The three ventured out, eagerly and cautiously looking around. Sherlock and Mycroft were disappointed to see that they weren't in some futuristic utopia. Instead, they were standing on an average-looking countryside. Nothing seemed different.

"Over here, Doctor!"

A sharply-dressed man was walking towards them. He shook the Doctor's hand and quietly said, "My name's Quipp. Thanks for coming."

"You're welcome," the Doctor quietly said, "What seems to be the problem?"

Quipp led them down a gravely path to a small white building. The Doctor and the two brothers looked around, eagerly taking in everything.

"We had to move it out to the countryside," Quipp was saying, "It was causing too much trouble."

"What was?"

"Come through here," Quipp demanded, opening a heavy door. They entered and found themselves in a cramped room. Men and women in labcoats bustled about. Another metal door sat to their left. A large sign overtop read: DANGER. ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.

"It started a few years ago," Quipp quietly explained, "There was an idea to create the world's smartest computer. And it worked. Only now it's too smart. It believes itself to be the smartest thing in the universe."

"So it's a computer with high self-esteem issues," Sherlock clarified, "How is that bad?"

"It's powerful," Quipp continued, "It's extremely powerful. It has the ability to hack into any other machinery."

"Why not just shut it down?" Mycroft asked.

A lab technician spoke up, "The only way to shut it down is to outsmart it."

"Well," the Doctor slyly said, "I'm sure that's not the _only_ way!"

"Here's the thing," Quipp slowly said, "We built in disintegrators to keep people from stealing it. Only…"

The Doctor sighed, realizing what he was trying to say, "Since it can hack into any machinery…"

"It can control the disintegrators," Quipp finished, "Precisely."

"So it shoots anyone who enters the room?" Mycroft asked.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Quipp sighed, "Recently there have been competitions."

The Doctor's frown deepened and Quipp continued, "People are looking to do anything to try and shut it down. They're coming from all across the world to try and outsmart it. It allows one person in at a time. The point is to try and overload the machine. To prove it wrong."

Another lab technician gravely said, "Only nobody's been able to. It's a suicide mission."

"Some have lasted longer than others," Quipp sighed, "But they are all disintegrated in the end."

The Doctor suddenly looked tired as he thoughtfully said, "It's the old question: The human mind verses the machine."

"In this case," Quipp sadly said, "The machine is superior."

"No," Sherlock softly remarked, "No. That's wrong. A machine can never be superior to a human."

The Doctor smiled and gently said, "It's not that easy, Sherlock. There are many advanced machines out there. And unfortunately some of them are smarter."

"It's a machine," Sherlock argued, "It can't be smarter. It can't know everything."

"Neither can a human," Mycroft testily said. He didn't like the glint in his brother's eye.

"I could talk to it," Sherlock muttered.

"No!"

Sherlock frowned at the Doctor and Mycroft's simultaneous shout. The Doctor knelt down and softly explained, "Sherlock Holmes, you are brilliant for your age. But I am not letting you risk your life out of pure stubbornness."

"Look at this logically," Mycroft huffed, before his brother could argue, "You're brilliant in the sense of the human mind. But that thing has the knowledge of the entire universe."

"The human mind will always be smarter than a machine!" Sherlock angrily cried, "It was always be smarter! _I_ will always be smarter!"

The Doctor squeezed Sherlock's arm and said, "Come on. Let's…"

Sherlock didn't listen. Instead, he abruptly raced past the Doctor and Mycroft.

"Sherlock, _what are you doing_?" Mycroft screamed.

The Doctor lunged after him, shouting, "Sherlock, NO!"

The lab assistants tried to grab him but he shot past them, wrenched open the door, entered the room, and firmly closed it.

"SHERLOCK!"

"SHERLOCK!"

Mycroft turned to Quipp and frantically ordered, "Get him out of there! Please!"

A lab technician shrieked, "We can't! The door remains locked until one of them outsmarts the other!"

The Doctor pulled out his Sonic but Quipp immediately cried, "No! The machine is programmed to override overrides. It will automatically ignite the disintegrators."

"Alright," Mycroft anxiously said, "Alright…Let's get into the Tardis and rematerialize into the room."

"Only one member is allowed," Quipp apologized, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."

Mycroft's heart thundered even faster as he whispered, "But he can't…he can't…"

The Doctor was hiding his face in his hands, desperately trying to think.

"What do we do?" Mycroft asked, "What do we _do_?"

"We need to trust Sherlock," the Doctor finally said, straightening up, "We need to believe that Sherlock knows what he's doing. We need to believe in Sherlock Holmes."

"This way to the observation deck," Quipp softly said. He led the two into a room with a glass window that overlooked the room. Sherlock glanced up at them and smiled. Unlike his brother and the Doctor, Sherlock was not afraid. He was determined. He glanced up at the computer which was an entire wall of machinery and wires.

"State your name."

The voice was metallic and cold.

"Don't you know that?" Sherlock haughtily asked, "I thought that you knew everything."

"It's for the records, Mister Holmes."

Sherlock held his head high and quietly said, "My name is Sherlock Timothy Carlton Holmes. I am seven years old. From London."

"Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"You should be," Sherlock remarked.

"Well then, Mister Holmes…tell me something that I don't know."

"I know that the man standing next to my brother is not human," Sherlock coyly said.

"Naturally. He is a Time Lord known as the Doctor."

"Very good," Sherlock praised, "But facts are easy. How about riddles?"

"Very well. See if you can solve this one, Mister Holmes. Poor people have it. Rich people need it. If you eat it, you will die."

"Nothing," Sherlock immediately said, "Obviously."

From up above, the Doctor and Mycroft sighed with relief.

"Well done. Your turn."

Sherlock thought for a minute before quietly saying, "I am the beginning of the **e**nd, and the end of tim**e** and spac**e**. I am essential to creation, and I surround **e**very plac**e**. What am I?

"The Letter 'E'. My turn. What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?"

Sherlock closed his eyes, his mind racing. After several tense minutes, he looked up and smartly said, "A river."

Mycroft grinned and the Doctor softly cheered.

"Correct. Your turn."

"Until I am measured, I am not known," Sherlock recited, "Yet how you miss me when I have flown."

"Time."

The riddles and facts continued. An entire hour passed, each minute more stressful than the last. The Doctor and Mycroft anxiously paced the Observation Deck. Sherlock knew that they were worried. He was beginning to join them. This had the probability of not ending well.

"Your turn."

Sherlock rubbed his temple before muttering, "1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144, 233, 377, 610…"

His voice escalated with each number. Before he could continue, however, the machine piped up, "987, 1597, 2584, 4181, 6765, 10946, 17711, 28657, 46368, 75025, 121393, 196418, 317811…the list is continuous so long as you apply the formula Fn = Fn-1 + Fn-2."

Mycroft sighed with frustration and the Doctor put a hand on his shoulder.

"Correct," Sherlock coolly said, "Though that's hardly impressive."

"I know every formula across the galaxy."

"I can still outsmart you," Sherlock replied, "That isn't the only formula that I know. I also know that the mass-energy equivalence is e=mc2. I know that pi is equal to 3.14."

"You daft boy! Pi is not equal to 3.14. Rather, it is equal to 3.141592653589793238462643383279502884197169399375 105820974944592307816406286 20899862803482534211706798214808651328230664709384 4609550582231725359408128481 11745028410270193852110555964462294895493038196442 8810975665933446128475648233 78678316527120190914564856692346034861045432664821 3393607260249141273724587006 60631558817488152092096282925409171536436789259036 0011330530548820466521384146 95194151160943305727036575959195309218611738193261 1793105118548074462379962749 56735188575272489122793818301194912983367336244065 6643086021394946395224737190 70217986094370277053921717629317675238467481846766 9405132000568127145263560827 78577134275778960917363717872146844090122495343014 6549585371050792279689258923 54201995611212902196086403441815981362977477130996 0518707211349999998372978049 95105973173281609631859502445945534690830264252230 8253344685035261931188171010 00313783875288658753320838142061717766914730359825 3490428755468731159562863882 35378759375195778185778053217122680661300192787661 1195909216420198938095257201 06548586327886593615338182796823030195203530185296 8995773622599413891249721775 28347913151557485724245415069595082953311686172785 5889075098381754637464939319 25506040092770167113900984882401285836160356370766 0104710181942955596198946767 83744944825537977472684710404753464620804668425906 9491293313677028989152104752 16205696602405803815019351125338243003558764024749 6473263914199272604269922796 78235478163600934172164121992458631503028618297455 5706749838505494588586926995 69092721079750930295532116534498720275596023648066 5499119881834797753566369807 42654252786255181841757467289097777279380008164706 0016145249192173217214772350 14144197356854816136115735255213347574184946843852 3323907394143334547762416862 51898356948556209921922218427255025425688767179049 4601653466804988627232791786 08578438382796797668145410095388378636095068006422 51252051173929848960841…"

An alarm began to sound. Red lights flashed

Quite suddenly, a wall of heat slammed into Sherlock. He crumpled to the ground in a mixture of pain and exhaustion. He covered his ears to block out the sound of gnashing metal and shattering glass. Mycroft screamed his name but Sherlock was far from afraid. After all, he had done it. He had outsmarted the machine.

He blinked up at Mycroft and the Doctor as they climbed through the broken window.

"Sherlock," Mycroft hesitantly asked, "Are you alright?"

Sherlock was too exhausted to answer. Mycroft put his arms around him and he smiled.

Sherlock's head was pounding. His entire body was riddled with pain. But it was worth it.

He knew that it was safe to close his eyes for a moment. Just a moment…

Sherlock woke up several hours later. He was relieved to see that Mycroft and the Doctor were sitting next to his bedside; the former sound asleep. The Doctor caught his eye and smiled before gently shaking Mycroft awake.

"Are you alright?" Mycroft immediately asked.

Sherlock nodded before glancing at the Doctor and softly saying, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone in there."

"No shit, Sherlock," Mycroft muttered.

"Mycroft," the Doctor gently chastised, "Language."

"For someone who claims to be brilliant, you sure made an idiotic move," Mycroft continued, after apologizing to the Doctor.

"It was pretty risky, Sherlock," the Doctor admitted.

"I know," Sherlock muttered, "I'm sorry."

He was suddenly overcome with a terrifying thought and asked, "You're not mad, are you? I mean…we can still be your companions…?"

The Doctor softened—he practically melted—and gently said, "Of course you can. If you still want to. But I think that we need to set a few rules."

Sherlock frowned and the Time Lord laughed before saying, "Just a few. Rule One: I lie."

"What?" Mycroft asked.

"River says that's Rule One," the Doctor shrugged, "The Doctor lies. Sometimes there are things that I cannot tell you. Not only for the universe's sake, but for your sake."

"River?" Sherlock repeated, exchanging glances with Mycroft. The Doctor was talking to bodies of water now?

"Rule Two," the Doctor continued, "Bowties are and will always be cool."

Sherlock and Mycroft laughed at that but agreed.

"Rule Three," the Doctor said, "I need you to listen to me. I need you to trust me. I need you to run when I say run, to hide when I say hide, to not go into rooms with highly-advanced computers when I say not to."

Sherlock ducked his head, shamefaced. The Doctor's eyes twinkled and he said, "Rule Four: No dating."

Sherlock snorted, "I'll try to resist."

He grinned but solemnly said, "Trust me, it only leads to trouble. Speaking of, that brings us to Rule Six: No tall buildings."

He broke off and suddenly gave Sherlock a peculiar expression.

"What?" Sherlock asked, thoroughly confused, "What is it?"

"Doctor, what's wrong?" Mycroft asked.

"Nothing," the Doctor finally said, "It's just…I suppose that some rules can be broken if absolutely necessary."

Once again, the two brothers exchanged glances and Sherlock said, "Don't worry. I'm not planning on dating anytime soon."

The Doctor smiled and said, "Good. Now then…Rule Seven: Try not to wander off. I want to make sure that I know where you are. Rule Eight: If possible, try not to destroy the entire universe. Rule Nine: Stay alive. Rule Ten: Have fun."

The brothers nodded and agreed.

"I'm sorry that I went into the room," Sherlock sadly repeated.

"Apology accepted," the Doctor kindly said, "And it's a good thing that you did. You did it, Sherlock. You took down the machine."

"It was impressive," Mycroft agreed, "Even if it nearly gave me a heart-attack."

"We'll let you rest," the Doctor said, "You're going to be fine."

"I know," Sherlock yawned.

A small smile spread across his face and the Doctor returned it, gently saying, "You were brilliant. You were absolutely brilliant."

Sherlock's smile widened. He closed his eyes and proudly repeated, "I know."


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: As soon as I saw the two 'Beatles Doctor Who' pictures (which can be found with a simple Google search) I couldn't resist making this chapter!

Chapter Eight

The days passed by, each one more exciting than the last. Before they knew it, Mycroft and Sherlock had spent an entire month with the Doctor. He installed a clock in their room which allowed them to see what the date would be, if they had stayed on Earth. Sherlock and Mycroft laughed at the fact that they were climbing a mountain made entirely of ice-cream as their classmates were taken their final exams.

Every morning, the two brothers would eagerly race out to the console room. The Doctor would always have a destination in mind—an impossible planet or an unforgettable moment in history. When the day was done, they would have just enough energy to go into their favorite rooms of the Tardis. Mycroft's favorite room was the library. It was the biggest library that he had ever seen, though the Doctor begrudgingly admitted that it wasn't the largest library in the universe. He didn't care—he still got lost in the thousands of books. Sherlock loved the music room and quickly learned how to play the violin. He was a natural and even had enough courage to perform in front of the Doctor and Mycroft one night. They both gave him a standing ovation.

At the end of the day, the three would sit in the console room and talk for hours. They would recount their adventures or listen to the Doctor's previous adventures and random facts about the universe. They would climb up onto the roof and stare at the stars or use the Sonic Screwdriver to roast marshmallows or splash around in the swimming pool.

The Doctor was amazing. When he arrived at a new planet, he did so with a fierce mission to explore something new and help those who needed it. He never ran away from a fight but always faced it with perseverance. He also never reprimanded Sherlock and Mycroft when they got into trouble or danger.

"It's a life lesson."

"We accidentally summoned a sea-monster!"

"It's an…interesting life lesson."

But deep down, he was just an ecstatic five-year old whose mission was to show the two brothers the time of their lives. He cared about them. And that made all the difference in the universe. Even if he could be a bit absentminded.

One night the Doctor suddenly looked up and randomly shouted.

"What?" Sherlock cried, "What is it?"

"I'm stupid," the Doctor groaned, "Mycroft, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry."

"I…forgive you?" Mycroft said, uncertainly.

"I completely forgot," the Doctor continued, "Alright. Off to bed. Long day tomorrow."

"W…what?"

"Bed."

"But what are you sorry for?" Mycroft pressed.

"It's a surprise."

"So you're sorry but it's a surprise as to why you're sorry?" Mycroft skeptically asked.

"Yep. Come along."

He led them into the bedroom, tucked Sherlock in, ruffled Mycroft's hair and bid them goodnight. Eight hours later, he burst back into their room and roared for them to get up.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock yawned, his hair sticking up more than usual.

"Nothing," the Doctor grinned, "Good thing, too. You two have the poorest reaction time that I've ever seen. Oh well. Wakey-wakey."

He pulled Mycroft's pillow from beneath him. Mycroft groaned and begrudgingly sat up.

"I've taken the liberty of picking out your clothes," the Doctor cheerfully said.

"Peacoats?" Sherlock groaned, "It's summertime!"

"Peacoats are cool."

The Doctor left them to change. Sherlock and Mycroft decided that it was best not to ask as they pulled on the heavy coats and adjusted their hair. They went into the console room and nibbled on some bacon while the Doctor excitedly explained how they were going to love their destination. When they were done, he hit a button and they were off!

There was the usual amount of shaking followed by a startling crash that knocked the three of them off of their feet.

"Ah," the Doctor cried, attempting to stand up, "That didn't sound good. Not good at all."

He hit a few buttons and pulled a few levers and suddenly they were sideways! Mycroft grabbed a rope hanging from the ceiling and Sherlock grabbed onto him. The Doctor managed to cling onto the console and straighten the box out. It skidded to a stop and the boys dropped to the ground, trembling.

"Sorry," the Doctor cried, "I'm sorry! Are you alright?"

"Fine," Sherlock whimpered.

"What'd we hit?" Mycroft gasped.

The Doctor opened the door and looked out before paling.

"Doctor?"

"Ehh…oh…not good at all."

Sherlock and Mycroft stepped forward to look. The Tardis had landed on an average looking road. Mycroft glanced at the sign: ABBEY ROAD.

"Doctor…" he slowly said.

He then realized that a group of four was lying in a heap, as though something had crashed into them. Something like a blue box.

Sherlock swallowed and Mycroft groaned. The two exchanged looks before glancing up at the Doctor. The Time Lord looked exasperated as he asked, "Please tell me that you've already taken the picture?"

() () ()

"It's bigger on the inside!"

The Doctor, Sherlock, and Mycroft laughed at John Lennon's statement.

Mycroft couldn't believe it. They were sitting backstage with the Beatles! The Tardis was in the corner, being admired by the Fabulous Four. The Doctor ran a hand through his hair and grinned at him. Mycroft returned it. The Beatles had been more than ecstatic when the Doctor had explained who he was, what he did, where he went, how he got there, and why this visit was very important to Mycroft.

They had invited the brothers backstage to talk. Mycroft and Sherlock wanted to hear all about their tours and adventures. John, Paul, George, and Ringo wanted to hear all about _their_ tours and adventures.

Finally, a stagehand announced that it was time to go on. Mycroft, Sherlock, and the Doctor slipped into the crowd right in front of the stage. Mycroft and Sherlock immediately realized one very important fact about the Doctor: Don't take him to concerts.

_Naaa naa naa nananana nananana Hey Jude_

The Doctor threw his head back and cried, "Jude Judie Judie Judie Judie JUDIE!"

The two brothers cracked up but he wasn't finished.

_Naaa naa naa nananana nananana Hey Jude_

"Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude…"

By now half of the crowd was turning to look at the funny man with the bowtie who was roaring at the top of his lungs.

_Naaa naa naa nananana_

"Yeah yeah yeah," the Doctor sang.

_Nananana Hey Jude_

"Yeah you know you can make it, J-Jude, you're not goanna break it!" Sherlock roared, much to the Doctor's delight.

_Naaa naa naa nananana nananana Hey Jude_

"Hey Jude, YEAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

Sherlock and Mycroft joined in with the clapping and the Doctor triumphantly grinned.

_Naaa naa naa nananana nananana Hey Jude_

The Doctor glanced at Mycroft who opened his mouth but was too embarrassed to do anything.

_Naaa naa naa nananana nananana Hey Jude._

"Come on, Mycroft!" Sherlock pleaded, "Please!"

_Naaa naa naa nananana nananana Hey Jude._

"NanananananananananananacauseIwanna," Mycroft mumbled. The Doctor still encouragingly nodded and the others clapped.

_Naaa naa naa nananana nananana Hey Jude._

The Doctor belted out, "NANANANANANANANANANANANACAUSEIWANNA!"

"Show off," Mycroft laughed.

The Doctor also laughed but his smile immediately diminished.

"Doctor?" Sherlock asked, "What's wrong?"

"Something not good at all," the Doctor mumbled, "Look."

He pointed. Something was creeping around the corner behind the Beatles. It looked like a statue—a statue of an angel.

The Doctor screamed again, and this time it wasn't lyrics, "STOP! STOP THE CONCERT! STOP! Sherlock, Mycroft, keep your eye on that statue! Don't blink but don't look into its eyes. Is that understood?"

The boys nervously nodded and did as they were told.

The Beatles halted and, seeing his alarmed look, leaned over the railing of the stage.

"Doctor, what is it?" John asked.

The Doctor grabbed the nearest microphone and declared, "Ladies and Gentlemen there appears to be a very serious gas leak. N…CALM DOWN! Don't worry. If you leave immediately, there will be no effects. Go. Now. Leave."

It was like he had said a special incantation. The crowd departed, screaming and hollering for one another. Within seconds, the seven were alone.

"Doctor, what is going on?" George shouted.

"Turn around," the Doctor slowly said, eyeing the statue, "Slowly now."

They did so and gaped at the statue.

"Where did that come from?" Paul asked.

"Doctor, what's the problem?" Sherlock anxiously asked, "It's just a statue."

"The problem is that it's _not_ just a statue, Sherlock," the Doctor grimaced, "That is a Weeping Angel. It's rather hard to explain but…don't blink. They are superfast and extremely dangerous. They are vicious. They…are…vicious."

He suddenly looked extremely upset but shook it off and said, "Come along. Come with me. Back away. Don't blink. And don't stare into its eyes."

Sherlock and Mycroft tried not to panic. The Doctor was upset and nervous. They were smart enough to realize that this was _not_ a good sign.

"And…run!"

They immediately complied. They ran as fast as they could. The Doctor pulled open a cellar door and he, Sherlock, and Mycroft ducked in.

"We'll lead it away," John shouted.

"No," the Doctor cried, "NO!"

But it was too late.

The Beatles had raced past and the Weeping Angel swept by seconds later.

"They'll be alright, won't they?" Mycroft nervously asked. When the Doctor didn't answer, he worriedly cried, "Doctor, we didn't just sentence the Beatles to death…?"

"Come along," the Doctor softly said.

"_Doctor!_"

"Come along," the Doctor repeated.

The three walked through the basement, jumping at every shadow and moan. Their hearts raced, all four of them.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said after a few seconds, "I'm so sorry. This isn't what I expected at all."

"It's okay," Sherlock said, though his voice was higher than usual, "We knew what we were getting into when we joined you."

Mycroft nodded, still troubled. The Beatles were in danger because of them.

"Where are we going?" Mycroft finally asked.

"I have no idea," the Doctor admitted. They came out into a main room and started down another corridor on the opposite side. Unfortunately, they heard a noise. The Doctor clicked his Sonic and the lights brightened. Sherlock and Mycroft resisted a scream. Four Weeping Angels were at the end of the corridor.

"No," the Doctor gasped, "No!"

The four backed against the wall, trying not to blink.

"Doctor, what do we do?" Sherlock asked.

"Daleks are little buggers," the Doctor quietly said, "I don't really care for Cybermen and I am not too fond of the Silence. But if there's one thing that I hate IT'S WEEPING ANGELS!"

He shook with fury. It was unnerving, the brothers thought, as they pressed themselves against the wall. They had never seen the Doctor look so angry, so hurt, and so afraid.

Then quite suddenly, something crashed into the back of an Angel's head. It was a sledgehammer and it was being held by a woman with a mop of curly yellow hair. She took a deep breath and said, "Well that's another thing we have in common. Hello, Sweetie."

Without further ado, she spun around and began to smash the Angels. She took off arms and heads and though it didn't stop them, it gave the Doctor and the brothers enough time to race past. Mycroft was relieved to see that the Doctor looked relieved. Once they were safely down the corridor, Sherlock and Mycroft turned. The woman was still at it, smashing bits of Angel left and right. She gracefully spun around, never giving them a chance to touch her.

Sherlock's eyes widened and Mycroft softly whispered, "Blimey."

He wasn't aware that the Doctor had come up next to him until the Time Lord smirked and said, "Oi, she's spoken for."

"Oh, I wasn't…I…I didn't…" Mycroft stammered before asking, "By who?'

The woman backed towards them, staring at the Angels as she did so.

"Mycroft, Sherlock," the Doctor calmly said, all while keeping an extra eye on the statues, "I'd like you to meet my wife: Professor River Song."

"Hello," River said with a smile. She then swung the hammer over her shoulder, crashing it into the face of an Angel that was coming towards her.

"You're…what? You're married?" Mycroft asked the smiling Time Lord.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sherlock cried.

"Rule One: The Doctor lies," River explained.

Sherlock suddenly looked excited as he put things together, "River!"

"Yes?"

"You're River!"

"Yes."

"I thought that the Doctor was talking to random bodies of water."

"He does that too," River remarked, "Mind your head now."

Sherlock ducked out of the way and River spun around, wielding the hammer and knocking it into the Angel's arm.

"Back, back," the Doctor instructed. The four slowly stepped backwards, keeping their eyes on the stone statues.

The Doctor quickly glanced at River and asked, "How many are there?"

"These four," River sharply said, glaring at the statues, "And then another three chased your friends."

"Are they alright?" Sherlock demanded.

"I don't know. I'm sorry," River remarked, "I came in after you."

There was a terrifying pause as they backed away.

"You're married?" Mycroft repeated.

"Yes," the Doctor whispered, the smirk reforming; "Now pick your jaw up off the floor and let's crack on, shall we?"

"What…no…sorry…I didn't mean…"

But the Time Lord was already running with River at his side. Mycroft grabbed Sherlock's hand and the four raced away. Much to their horror, the corridor forked ahead and the two brothers ended up going down a different corridor than the Doctor and River. They could hear two Angels following them. Due to River's…modifications…the Angels weren't as fast as the Doctor had originally said. But they were still hobbling along, side-by-side, snarling and hissing and trying to grab them.

The corridor somehow looped back into the main room. The Doctor and River raced out of a corridor on the opposite side.

"We've got two chasing us!" Mycroft gasped.

"Us too," River declared, "Side-by-side?"

Sherlock nodded and River said, "Good. Hold on."

She whirled a grappling hook and the Doctor did the same. Both hooks latched onto a beam on the ceiling. The Doctor grabbed Mycroft and River grabbed Sherlock and the four shot up just as the Angels came out from both sides. As soon as they saw one another, they immediately froze.

"Haha," Sherlock cried, practically choking River, "Wicked!"

"Yes…wicked…now…would…you…mind…letting…go?"

"Sorry," Sherlock sheepishly muttered as the four dropped down.

"Afraid of heights, are we?" River asked.

"Of course not," Sherlock mumbled, "Afraid of falling."

River gave a start and amusedly asked, "Really? Sherlock Holmes is afraid of falling."

"River," the Doctor quietly said.

River paused before sighing and admitting, "Right. Sorry. Spoilers."

"What spoil…?" Mycroft started before becoming distracted by the still Angels. It was eerie. They were still outstretched, mouths still twisted in a snarl, seconds away from grabbing them but frozen by one another's gaze. Sherlock started towards one but Mycroft grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Well," River brightly said, "I would love to stick around but I really ought to get back to the party and tell Stalin that I'm flattered but not interested."

She reached up and fondly adjusted the Doctor's bowtie.

"I'll be around," she said with a wink. And then she was gone.

There was a small pause as the three collected themselves. Finally, Mycroft once again repeated, "You're married?"

The Doctor laughed and said, "Come on. Let's meet back up with the others."

"Is it alright to leave them?" Sherlock asked, still eyeing the Weeping Angels.

"Don't worry," the Doctor calmly said, "I've enabled a perception filter. Nobody will touch them."

Their minds buzzing, the Holmes' brothers followed the Doctor back outside.

"Doctor!"

"_Doctor_!"

"Over here!"

"You made it!"

The Beatles were racing towards them, grinning with relief.

"He-ey," the Doctor cried, "Good! Everyone's all in order!"

"We led them to a small carnival," George said with a smirk.

The Doctor looked confused and Paul clarified, "The House of Mirrors, to be exact."

"They froze up as soon as they saw their reflections," Ringo snickered.

The Doctor laughed and cried, "Brilliant. Why didn't I think of that? Augh. Oh well; well done, the four of you. Absolutely…wow…I mean…Mycroft, Sherlock, the Beatles just outwitted the Weeping Angels! You can't ask for a better show than that!"

John smiled and said, "Speaking of a show…"

() () () () ()

_Let it be, let it be, let it be, oh let it be…_

The Doctor, Mycroft, and Sherlock sat back and smiled at the four musicians before them. The console room of the Tardis exhibited a great resonance.

Mycroft nudged Sherlock and whispered, "The Beatles are in the Tardis."

"The Beatles are performing a private concert for us," the Doctor happily murmured.

"The Beatles outwitted the bloody Weeping Angels," Sherlock excitedly added.

"Thanks, Doctor," Mycroft acclaimed, "This means a lot."

"You're welcome," the Doctor softly said.

"So," Sherlock mused, "Is this what you do when bad things happen?"

"What's that, Sherlock?"

"Let it be?"

He smiled and put his arms around the brothers' shoulders. The three closed their eyes and became lost in the music.

_Let it be, let it be_

_Let it be, yeah let it be_

_Whisper words of wisdom, let it be…_


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: I'm sorry. I'm afraid that this is more of a filler chapter. On the bright side, since I feel bad about posting such a boring chapter, I have linked it with one of my favorite chapters of the story so far!

Chapter Nine

Mycroft was going to be in so much trouble. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he guiltily glanced around. The Doctor was going to be angry. Sherlock was going to be amused but that was beside the point.

Mycroft blamed the Tardis.

He hadn't intended to go into the locked wing. It wasn't his fault. Well, it was partially his fault but it was easier to blame the blue police box. He had been in the library, browsing through more information on the Weeping Angels. Three days had passed since the incident, but he still wanted to know more about them. On his search for more information, he had passed a large door. It wasn't that spectacular but it did catch his attention; mostly because it was locked.

Mycroft turned and saw a key on the end-table. The Tardis _had_ to be the one to put it there. Keys didn't just spontaneously appear. Then again, Mycroft reminded himself, anything was possible. He blamed the Tardis nonetheless.

But if the Tardis _wanted_ him to see something, it was only polite to respect her wishes.

He hesitated and unlocked the door. Leather-bound books were neatly-stacked along the clean shelves, nothing like the rest of the library. Mycroft looked at the first volume.

_Rose._

He frowned. The Doctor had a secret wing devoted to flowers?

Mycroft gently opened it and soon realized that it was not a story about flowers. He settled into a comfy chair. He read the first chapter and then the next. Before he knew it, he had read the entire book. The Doctor described himself as being in his ninth regeneration. Mycroft had no idea what that meant, until he saw a detailed sketch. Mycroft merely stared at it. The man was not the Doctor. It couldn't be…

The Doctor had other companions. Mycroft and Sherlock were both smart enough to realize that they weren't the first companions, but it still stung. He quickly shook off the selfish and jealous thought. He wasn't being fair. Of course the Doctor had other companions. And when Sherlock and Mycroft finally left, he would have more.

That thought was terrifying. One day, Sherlock and Mycroft would leave the Tardis.

He was terrified to wonder where Rose was and why the Doctor hadn't mentioned her.

Rule One: The Doctor lies.

And sometimes lies of omission were the worst ones.

Mycroft looked up and saw the second volume: _The End of the World._

Nobody would blame him for wanting to read a book with that title. So he did. By the time the Doctor called for dinner, Mycroft was halfway through _Aliens of London._

Mycroft's mind buzzed as he carefully put the books back and closed the door to the secret wing. He tried to appear innocent as he sat next to Sherlock.

"Mycroft?"

Mycroft nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't realized that the Doctor had been talking to him until the Time Lord repeated, "Would you like another piece of pizza?"

Mycroft accepted, still embarrassed that he hadn't heard the Doctor.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows and Mycroft sighed, unable to lie to him, "Doctor…I was in the library and…I saw…something…"

"Oh no," the Doctor groaned, "Jack didn't leave behind a few magazines did he?"

"No," Mycroft said, startled, "What?"

"Nothing," the Doctor quickly said, "What'd you see?"

"Well," Mycroft hesitated, "I found this wing and the Tardis supplied the key and it turned out to be a bunch of volumes about your…earlier adventures."

Sherlock paused, still chewing on a piece of alien-meat that closely resembled pepperoni.

"Ah," the Doctor softly said.

"I read a few," Mycroft burst out, "I'm sorry. I know that they were private but…"

"Easy," the Doctor gently said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Easy, Mycroft. I don't mind if you read them. I keep them locked away in case anyone who shouldn't be in the Tardis ends up coming in. I don't want them to find family records or other facts. But I trust you."

Mycroft nodded, feeling slightly relieved and touched.

From that point on, he spent most of his free time in the library. He was a fast reader and got through several volumes a day. He practically devoured the stories. The Doctor would often join him, providing extra details or cautionary disclaimers.

He clarified what it meant to regenerate. He said that it was a defense mechanism of Time Lords. From what Mycroft understood, it meant that he obtained a whole new body and personality. The Doctor was currently in his eleventh generation.

After about two weeks, he reached _Doomsday_. After reading the book, he set it down and numbly sat in the chair. Rose was gone. That's why they hadn't met her.

He wasn't aware of how long he had blanked out, until Sherlock poked his head in and eagerly asked, "Aren't you coming to dinner?"

"I'm not…I'm not hungry, Sherlock," Mycroft huskily said.

Sherlock frowned and raced off. Seconds later, the Doctor came tearing through and anxiously cried, "Sherlock says that you're sick?"

"I'm not sick," Mycroft scowled, "It's just…"

The Doctor glanced down at the book in his hands and suddenly understood. He sighed and sat on the arm of the chair, putting his own arm around Mycroft. Mycroft hardly ever cried but he was visibly upset. He finally took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm sorry that you lost her."

"Me too," the Doctor softly replied.

"She was amazing," Mycroft complimented, "They all were. Rose and Jackie and Mickey and Jack…"

"Jack's still around," the Doctor excitedly claimed, "He'll be around for a while. And if it helps, Rose is happy…in the parallel world."

Sherlock knocked on the door and hastily said, "Err…Doctor. About the dinner…"

The Doctor grinned and remarked, "If you look past the tentacles, it tastes just like chicken. I promise."

"Yes alright," Sherlock pressed, "But it's hard to look past the tentacles when they're squeezing your arm."

He held up his left arm and the two were amused to see that he was right. Their dinner, which could only be described as an alien-octopus, was clinging onto him.

The Doctor struggled to pull it off before saying, "Alright! Who wants to go out to eat?"

The boys eagerly agreed and they quickly left the library. Mycroft and the Doctor were both grateful for the distraction. They hurried into the console room and the Doctor fumbled with the buttons. The Tardis rocked before coming to a calming stop. Mycroft and Sherlock were still tired from earlier—the three had landed in a market only to find that the fruit was being infested by alien worms—but still eagerly raced to the door.

They were sitting on a large mountaintop on a planet that closely resembled Earth.

Mycroft took a deep breath and was immediately met with a decedent smell. It was mesmerizing. It was enchanting. It was coming from the small chocolate shop right next to them.

"Bon appetite," the Doctor laughed.

"We're having chocolate for dinner?" Mycroft laughed.

"I heard that it's…really good," the Doctor said, inhaling the aroma, "It's supposed to be extremely…very…good…"

The three quickly raced into the shop. A stout, older, woman smiled and greeted them before giving them each a free sample. It was the best chocolate that Mycroft had ever tasted.

By the time they exited the shop, their belts were all rather tight.

"Doctor, I meant to ask," Mycroft asked, "Do you even need to eat?"

The Doctor thought for a moment before saying, "Technically, I can go a long time without having to. But I enjoy food and Time Lords can eat a lot more than humans can without getting full."

They glanced over, surprised to see that they were not alone on the mountaintop. Several average-looking teenagers were on the edge of the slope, holding what appeared to be makeshift sleds and snowboards.

"You're not honestly thinking about sliding down that?" Mycroft asked, before he could help himself.

One of the teenagers frowned and snapped, "What's it to you?"

"Chip, don't be rude," the second teenager reprimanded before saying, "It's a contest to see who can rig the best way to get down. Anything goes. First to the bottom wins."

Sherlock's eyes lit up with excitement but Chip immediately snarled, "Don't get your hopes up, kid. You'll never be able to keep up."

"Wanna bet?" Sherlock asked.

"No," Mycroft immediately said, "No. You're not going down that."

"It doesn't look too dangerous," Sherlock muttered, "I can see the simplest and safest path down. It would be easy…"

"No!" Mycroft snapped, "That's final."

"You're not the boss of me," Sherlock hissed.

"I'm your bloody brother," Mycroft barked, "That's good enough."

"Why do you always have to be so _boring_?" Sherlock whined.

Mycroft reeled back, stung, before huffing, "Well at least I don't want to risk my life just to prove that I'm the smartest child in the universe."

"Sherlock, Mycroft, that's enough," the Doctor said, coming between them, "Mycroft, you're still upset over what you read earlier. Sherlock, your pride is wounded from what this dunderhead said. That's no reason to lash out at each other."

For once, Mycroft ignored the Doctor and turned to the teenagers, "Alright. We're in."

"Ehh, Mycroft," the Doctor started.

"Fine," Chip snapped, "Meet us back here in ten minutes."

"Mycroft."

"Fine."

"Mycroft, a word."

The Doctor grabbed his elbow and dragged him into the Tardis. Sherlock followed, looking slightly surprised by Mycroft's behavior. As it turned out, the Doctor didn't need to say anything. As soon as the Tardis door was closed, Mycroft sighed, "I'm sorry. I…I don't know what I was thinking. Too much chocolate."

"You're usually the rational one," Sherlock snickered, "Now you have to sled down a bloody mountain!"

Mycroft buried his face in his hands and the Doctor said, "Come on. I can hit a button and we can be gone in three seconds."

"I thought that we didn't run away from fights," Mycroft asked, "Sherlock's right; I'm usually always the rational one. And you know what? That's boring."

Sherlock grinned at that.

"We can deduce it," Mycroft agreed, "Brains over brawn."

"You're going to need more than just your brains," the Doctor said and though he still looked doubtful, he crossed to a cupboard and opened it. Two large toboggans fell out, complete with rocket boosters. It looked like something out of an old cartoon.

"Oh, you beautiful thing," the Doctor complimented the Tardis.

Sherlock laughed and said, "Thanks, Tardis."

"Alright," Mycroft took a deep breath, "Alright. I can do this."

"We can do this," Sherlock added, "I'm coming with you!"

Mycroft gave him an appreciative smile.

The Doctor frowned and cried, "Wait."

The two turned but instead of stopping them, the Doctor gently smiled and said, "You two are _not_ going out dressed like that."

Mycroft snickered and asked, "Did the Doctor just tell us that we are not going out dressed like that?"

"Yes," Sherlock murmured, "Didn't you hear him?"

Mycroft rolled his eyes, not wanting to get into another argument about sarcasm.

The Doctor ushered them to the wardrobe and made sure that they had heavy coats, helmets, heat-packs, and gloves. He hesitated before also grabbing a blue scarf and tying it around Sherlock's neck.

They went back outside and Sherlock asked, "Doctor, aren't you going to get a toboggan?"

"No, I'd rather not break my neck," the Doctor hastily said, "I'll just stay here."

Mycroft swallowed and he and Sherlock joined the others.

"Nice helmets," Chip chortled.

"Unlike you, our brains are actually valuable and worth protecting," Sherlock smoothly remarked, "Although you should really consider wearing one to preserve the brain-cells that you have left."

"Snap," the Doctor called, leaning against the Tardis.

Chip's friends laughed and he glowered. They then leapt onto their snowboards and sleds. Mycroft and Sherlock climbed onto their toboggans.

"Anything goes," Chip reminded them, "And…GO!"

Sherlock and Mycroft pushed off and slowly slid down the hill.

"How do we activate the rocket boosters?" Mycroft wondered aloud.

Sherlock thought for a split second before shouting, "GERONIMO!"

That did it. Mycroft repeated the scream and the two rapidly shot down the hill. They were going slow enough to mind the trees and bumps but fast enough to catch up with the others.

They were passing them. They were winning! They were spinning out of control!

Sherlock and Mycroft screamed as a ball of fire hit the ground before them. They tried to pull out of the way but doing so caused the toboggans to skitter and topple before crashing into a lump of snow. Chip zoomed past them, smirking as he showed off a smoking glove.

"Sherlock…" Mycroft grunted with pain, "Are you okay?"

"He has a glove that produces balls of fire," Sherlock cried.

"Don't look so impressed," Mycroft snapped, "He just beat us."

The two brothers stood up only to feel something crash into them from behind. It was a second before they realized that the _thing_ was the Tardis. The force of the crash had knocked them off of their feet and through the door.

"Climb aboard," the Doctor shouted from above, "Mind the ropes."

"What?" Sherlock cried.

The two stood up and saw that the Tardis was rapidly sliding down the hill. Ropes were tied to the steering mechanisms and extended out and up to the roof. They looked up and saw that the Doctor was standing on top of said roof. Mycroft and Sherlock hesitated for only a brief second before climbing up to join him.

"We're sledding on the Tardis?" Mycroft shouted, trying to keep his balance.

"Anything goes," the Doctor pointed out.

"You…do…realize…that…by…that…definition..." Sherlock gasped, "We could have easily materialized the Tardis down to the bottom of the mountain."

"Yes but where's the fun in that?" Mycroft smirked and Sherlock returned it.

Suffice to say, they won by a landslide. By the time Chip and his friends reached the bottom of the mountain, smirking and chortling, the Doctor, Sherlock, and Mycroft were leaning against the wall of the Tardis.

"Blimey," Chip's friend gasped, "You won!"

"Woohoo!" Sherlock cheered.

He and Mycroft high-fived and the Doctor did an excited jig.

"Come on," Chip snarled to the other two, "Let's go back up."

The other two mouthed their congratulations over their shoulders and followed Chip back to the lift.

"Err, Doctor," Sherlock suddenly said, "Can I have the Sonic?"

"Sure," the Doctor shrugged, handing it over.

Sherlock clicked it. The three listened and suddenly heard the man operating the lift growl, "Sorry, boys. It appears to be out of order. For safety purposes, you're going to have to hike up the manual path."

The boys cussed and hissed as they slowly made their way up the snowy stairs.

Sherlock, Mycroft, and the Doctor laughed.

"You know," the Doctor exclaimed, his eyes twinkling, "I would have disabled it when they were halfway up."

"No," Mycroft sharply cried, "They could have gotten seriously hurt."

"But still…"

"No, Sherlock," Mycroft chuckled, prodding his brother into the Tardis, "We've been with the Doctor for six weeks and so far haven't had anyone die on our hands. With his track record, I'd say that's pretty good…"

He broke off as he noticed the hurt look that passed the Doctor's face.

"Oh no," Mycroft whispered, "Doctor, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I wasn't talking about…Rose. I just meant…you usually ended up popping into a war or a fight and sometimes those aliens would end up…"

"I know," the Doctor said, still looking wounded.

"Doctor, I'm really sorry," Mycroft pressed.

"No, you're right," the Doctor hastily said, "Sometimes I cannot prevent it when people are hurt or worse…I would never do anything to intentionally cause it."

Mycroft nodded. After all, that's what the Doctor did. He protected people. He did everything in his power to protect his companions. Even today, he protected Sherlock and Mycroft. Mycroft smiled and headed to the library. In his haste, he had forgotten to properly shelve the books. He didn't want the Doctor to have to do it. One thing would lead to another and he wasn't sure that the Doctor was ready to read his own stories. Mycroft stared down at the volume for a minute longer before shelving it.

"You know," the Doctor said from the doorway, "In our haste to find something to eat that wasn't going to break our arms off, I never asked if you did have any questions."

"Actually, yeah," Mycroft agreed, "Why didn't…?"

He broke off at the sight of the Doctor's face. Once again, the Time Lord looked hurt, as though he already knew what Mycroft was going to ask. Frankly, Mycroft wasn't sure what he wanted to ask. There were so many questions. Why didn't you finish your sentence? Why didn't you save her? Why didn't you burn up _two_ suns? Why didn't you rip apart the universe?

Eventually, Mycroft faltered and finished, "Why didn't you wear a bowtie back then?"

The Doctor cracked a smile and answered, "Bowties weren't cool back then. Now they are cool."

Mycroft laughed and the two returned to the console room. It was only after he was in bed that night, did Mycroft realize why he had changed his question. The Doctor protected everyone else. But sometimes his companions needed to protect him.

Still, Mycroft thought, he wasn't planning on watching anyone die for a while.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

The next night, Sherlock and Mycroft watched someone die.

Well, sort of.

They had spent most of the day caught up in a legal battle between two planets; both of which refused to allow the other members to visit. It had been a boring and tedious day but they had finally negotiated visitation rights.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor yawned as they finally returned to the Tardis.

"It wasn't that bad," Mycroft offered.

Sherlock snorted and the Doctor grinned, "Yeah it was."

"Yeah it was," Mycroft agreed.

"Don't worry," the Doctor reassured them, "I'll make it up to you two. I have a plan for tomorrow!"

"What do you have in mind?" Sherlock eagerly asked.

"It's a surprise," the Doctor exclaimed, setting the Tardis to orbit amongst the stars. The brothers yawned and he cheerfully added, "Alright! It's time for bed."

Sherlock groaned and the Doctor added, "No arguments or excuses. You need to get a good night's rest for tomorrow."

"Doctor," Sherlock suddenly said, "There's a man floating outside."

The Doctor snorted, "Sherlock, what did I just say about excuses…?"

Sherlock frowned at his skepticism and pulled the door open. Sure enough, Mycroft and the Doctor could just make out the silhouette of somebody floating. He was too far away to reach and was eerily tumbling around.

"Ah," the Doctor said, coming over, "He's out of the oxygen bubble. Mycroft, would you mind grabbing the lifebuoy? This looks like a particularly painful one."

Mycroft did so and the Doctor threw it. It fell around the man and the brothers suddenly realized that he was very still.

"Is he…is he dead?" Sherlock whispered as the Doctor pulled him in.

"Yes," the Doctor grimaced, "That happens from time to time."

Mycroft and Sherlock exchanged terrified looks but the Doctor quickly said, "Don't worry. Give it a minute."

As if on cue, the man suddenly gasped.

Sherlock and Mycroft cried out and practically leapt to the other side of the room.

The Doctor knelt next to the man and merrily said, "Up and at em!"

The man sat up and grunted, "Sorry. Miscalculated where I was going to land. Look at you, though! River said that you looked different after your regeneration but I didn't expect your hair to be so…floppy. And what's with the bowtie?"

"Oi," the Doctor looked truly offended as he muttered, "Bowties are…"

"Cool," the man finished with a grin, "River told me that too. Just joking."

The Doctor helped him to his feet and the man hugged him. The Doctor returned the hug though remarked, "Not laughing. You nearly scared my companions to death."

The man looked delighted as he repeated, "Ah, new companions?"

"No," the Doctor sharply said, "No. Not…these companions."

The man looked slightly confused until the Doctor pointed. Mycroft and Sherlock were now against the opposite wall, the latter hiding behind the former.

"Right. Laissez-faire, obviously," the man said, "But since when have you chosen children as your companions?"

"Those aren't just any children," the Doctor said with a smile, "Meet Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes."

"You're joking?" the man gasped, "The Holmes brothers?'

"Even he knows us?" Sherlock muttered.

The man grinned and said, "Hi. I'm…"

He trailed off, noticing that the Doctor had raised an eyebrow, and defensively said, "You introduce me, then."

The Doctor laughed at that and said, "Sherlock, Mycroft, this is…"

"Captain Jack Harkness," Mycroft finished, "I've read about you."

"Good things?" Jack asked with a smile.

"Err…"

Jack burst out laughing and teasingly said, "Gee…wonder who the author was?"

He grinned at the Doctor who chuckled and said, "Mostly good things."

"So, you're immortal?" Sherlock uncertainly asked, "You can just…die whenever you want to?"

"Yep," Jack grinned, "Wanna see?"

"Yes!" Mycroft and Sherlock eagerly said.

"No," the Doctor immediately cried, "Okay. Rule 11: No killing Jack."

Before Jack and the brothers could argue, the Doctor exclaimed, "Now, time for bed!"

"Oh come on," Mycroft snorted.

"You can't honestly expect us to go," Sherlock agreed.

"I do honestly expect you to go," the Doctor smirked, "You two were practically snoring in the middle of that courthouse today."

"That wasn't from exhaustion," Mycroft pointed out, "That was from boredom."

"Well tomorrow is going to be fun," the Doctor promised, ushering them along, "We're going to go to one of the greatest amusement parks!"

"Really?" Sherlock and Mycroft eagerly asked.

"Yes. Which of course means that you're going to need your strength."

The two boys grumbled but stomped along.

Like every night, the Doctor took time to tuck Sherlock in, ruffle Mycroft's hair, gently say goodnight, and left them to gaze at the stars.

The boys waited all of thirty seconds before simultaneously leaping up and creeping down the corridor. They crouched against the wall and listened.

"Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes," Jack was saying, "Are they just as brilliant as you had said?"

"Even more so," the Doctor remarked and the brothers could hear the smile in his voice.

"How did you ever get the Holmes brothers to be your companions? And at that age…?"

"Age isn't a measure of brilliance, Jack," the Doctor calmly said, "If you must know, I met them two years ago. Sherlock was upset because their father wanted to evict Mycroft from the nursery…"

Mycroft and Sherlock squirmed, still remembering that day. Well, it had all worked out for the better.

"…out of pity?" Jack was uncertainly asking.

Their ears perked up.

"No," the Doctor quietly said, "Oh, no, no. I did not pity Sherlock and Mycroft. I don't pity them and I will never pity them. I care about them. And I'm the first one to do so for a while. And that is a pity. It's a pity for everyone else who won't get to know just how amazing and brilliant those two are."

The brothers flushed with pride.

"So I came back for them," the Doctor continued, "It was only a few weeks for me but it was two years for them. I do feel bad about that."

"The Tardis took you where you needed to be," Jack offered.

"For all of our sakes," the Doctor agreed, "After what happened with Amy and Rory…"

He broke off and Jack murmured, "Yeah. River told me that too. I'm so sorry."

Jack then quickly changed the subject by saying, "You're amazing with them, though. I mean, it's like you know exactly what to say. How to act. What to do."

Jack hesitated before quietly saying, "It would be nice…having kids, that is."

Mycroft stole a quick glance around the corner to see that the Doctor looked thoughtful.

Jack quickly continued, "I imagine that it would be hard to have to watch them grow up when you barely age."

"Well," the Doctor bracingly said, "Why don't you come to the amusement park?"

"Yes!" Jack excitedly cried, "Will you bring the Sonic on the roller-coaster?"

"To make it go rapidly fast until it's out of control? Of course!"

The two laughed and the Doctor said, "You can have the hammock in the guest room."

"Great! Thanks."

"You know," the Doctor suddenly said, "There is one thing that Sherlock and Mycroft just can't do."

The two brothers glanced at each other, both angry and shocked.

"Yeah? What's that?"

"They're rubbish at listening in on people's conversations."

Sherlock and Mycroft paused, before realizing that they had been caught. They guiltily rounded the corner and the Doctor laughed and said, "The next time, stay away from the light. I could see your shadows."

"Did you still mean everything else?" Sherlock asked.

The Doctor smiled and sincerely said, "Every word."

() () () () ()

Sherlock was getting impatient. He angrily tapped his foot and muttered, "Bored."

"For a Time Lord, you think that he would be on time," Mycroft admitted.

The two brothers and Jack were standing in the console room, waiting for the Doctor to come out. They were eager to get to the amusement park.

"Let's play a game," Jack suggested.

"Alright," Sherlock eagerly said, "I dare you to…err…stand on your head!"

Jack complied and instead of just balancing on the palms of his hands, he literally managed to balance on the top of his head.

"Impressive," Mycroft admitted as Sherlock clapped.

"I've picked some things up," Jack grinned, flipping back over, "Alright, Mycroft. I dare you to push…"

He surveyed the console for a moment before spotting a random silver button and exclaiming, "…that button!"

"What?" Mycroft cried, "I can't do that!"

"Sure you can," Jack encouraged, "I dared you."

"Come on, Mycroft," Sherlock pressed.

"The Doctor will murder me!"

The two merely grinned and Mycroft rolled his eyes before snarling, "Fine."

He stepped forward but the Doctor suddenly raced out and cried, "Mycroft, no; that's the nuclear fusion reactor!"

Mycroft immediately leapt back cried, "Jack dared me to do it."

Jack didn't deny it and instead merely laughed "I thought that it was the button to shoot out confetti."

"Nope," the Doctor remarked, "That's the one next to it."

"Mm. You really should color-coat those things."

"Alright," the Doctor slowly said, "Rule 12: No pushing buttons on the console unless I'm in the room."

"Even if Jack dares us to?" Sherlock whined.

"_Especially_ if Jack dares you to," the Doctor snorted and hit another button. The Tardis made the familiar noise and shook before finally stopping.

As it turns out, the rest of the day was worth the wait. The amusement park was a huge universal hub. Aliens from all over came to enjoy themselves. The Doctor parked the Tardis in the parking lot, between two spaceships. As they excitedly walked to the rides, the Doctor pointed out different species.

The four zoomed around the roller coasters at top-speed! The Doctor clicked his Sonic Screwdriver to make them go even faster! Jack, Sherlock, and Mycroft all laughed and whooped, albeit the other riders didn't find it as amusing.

At one point, Jack, Sherlock, and Mycroft raced to the top of a large waterpark-playground, complete with fountains, water-guns, geysers, and steep slides.

"Err…you go first, Jack," Mycroft uncertainly said as he stared down one, "Jack?"

The three turned and saw that a gruff alien was holding Jack up by his neck.

"Hey, leave him alone," Mycroft angrily said.

"No cutting," Sherlock added.

"Jack Harkness," the alien growled, "The scum of my planet."

"That's…Captain…Jack…Harkness," Jack choked, "The scum of your planet."

"What did you do?" Mycroft cried.

"I accidentally got engaged to his daughter," Jack wheezed, "Who just so happened to be the princess of the planet."

"And?"

"I dove out the window," Jack admitted, "Landed in the lake. Swam until I could safely use my vortex manipulator to get away. He convicted me of breaking his daughter's heart."

"Vortex manipulator?" Sherlock repeated, "How does that work?"

"Like this," Jack gasped, hitting something on his wrist. He disappeared and reappeared behind the gruff alien. Unfortunately, the alien spun around and pulled out a taser gun. The extreme bolt of electricity hit Jack and he crumpled.

"Jack!" Sherlock and Mycroft shouted.

The alien sighed and somberly said, "Jack Harkness, I relieve you of your convictions."

"Thanks, mate," Jack cried, leaping up, "Now that that's settled…"

He jumped onto the water slide and Sherlock and Mycroft followed.

The Doctor laughed when he heard what happened and took them to a candy floss machine. The Doctor nonchalantly whistled and clicked the Sonic Screwdriver, causing the machine to go haywire and spit out an entire cloud of candy floss. They then went to the popcorn machine with similar results. They also had similar results with the ice-cream machine, slushie machine, the soda machine, the chocolate machine, and somehow the candy-apple booth.

The four also drove the bumper carts out of the box and onto the streets, crashed two of the trolleys, combined the wind-tunnel with the vortex-ride, rapidly spun the Ferris Wheel, tipped over the swinging pirate-ship ride, caused a tsunami in the wave-pool, accidentally impaled an employee at a prize booth by missing the balloons with their darts, and bounced on the inner-tubes on the lazy river.

In the end, they were banned from the amusement park.

For an eternity.

The four laughed as security had to personally escort them back to the Tardis.

"We might have over-done it," Mycroft admitted.

"Are you kidding?" Sherlock grinned, picking candy floss from his curls, "It was the best adventure we've ever had!"

Author's Note: Yep! Captain Jack Harkness! In my mind, he already somehow knows River. Actually, if you don't think that the two of them are best friends who use their vortex manipulators to go to the movies and sonic the popcorn and then stay up all night gossiping about the Doctor, you are wrong.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: Now who is ready for a wonderfully emotional, extremely short, slightly sappy, family-centered chapter? Good!

Chapter Eleven

Sherlock Holmes was tired. His eyes burned from the lack of sleep but he forced himself to stay awake. He adjusted the orb of light so that he could see the paper. The orbs of light were one of the greatest things that he had found in the cupboard of the Tardis. All of a sudden, the blanket was whisked away. Sherlock screamed out and Mycroft echoed it. The orb of light quickly flew away and faded out.

"What's wrong?" Mycroft cried, "And what were you doing?"

"Nothing," Sherlock quickly said.

"What's on that paper?"

"It's _nothing_," Sherlock repeated, quickly folding it up and putting it into the pocket of his pyjamas.

Mycroft frowned and reached for it but the door opened. The Doctor poked his head in and asked, "Everything alright?"

"Everything's fine," Sherlock smoothly responded, "Had a nightmare. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," the Doctor kindly said, "Do you need anything?"

"No, no," Sherlock hastily cried, "I think it's best if I get back to sleep. Goodnight."

He rolled over, hoping to feign for quickly falling asleep. He even added a small snore for good measure.

The Doctor glanced over at Mycroft, an amused smile spreading across his face. Mycroft merely shrugged and said, "Thanks, Doctor. Goodnight."

The Doctor nodded and left. Mycroft peered through the keyhole and the Doctor's eye peered back. The Time Lord snorted before leaving them to their privacy. Mycroft grinned but turned and asked, "Sherlock, you're a rubbish liar. Now what are you up to?"

Sherlock sighed and sat up, "Promise that you won't tell?"

"I promise."

"Promise that you won't laugh?"

"Why would I laugh?" Mycroft asked.

He turned on the light and crossed to his brother's bed. Sherlock pulled out the piece of paper and showed it to Mycroft. Mycroft's jaw dropped as he realized that it was a sketch of the three of them—Sherlock, Mycroft, and the Doctor.

"Sherlock, this is really good," Mycroft praised, "Why would I laugh at this?"

"It's not what I drew," Sherlock mumbled, "It's why I drew it."

"Why did you draw it?"

Sherlock pointed to the clock and said, "Tomorrow's June 16th."

"Yes?" Mycroft agreed, not understanding.

But Sherlock was clamming up and looking away.

"Sherlock," Mycroft pressed, "Tell me."

"It's Father's Day!" Sherlock burst out, his cheeks flaming.

Mycroft smiled as he suddenly understood, "Aw, Sherlock…"

"You promised that you weren't going to laugh!" Sherlock cried.

"I'm not laughing," Mycroft gently said, "Sherlock, that's so sweet. Blimey, you really do have a heart."

Sherlock frowned at the comment and remarked, "Do you think that it'll be enough? I mean he's done so much for us…"

"You're right," Mycroft agreed, "I want to get him something."

"Maybe Jack will help us," Sherlock suggested.

"Good idea," Mycroft acclaimed, "Come on."

The two crept down the corridor, throwing glances back towards the console room to ensure that the Doctor couldn't hear them. After several tense moments, they reached Jack's bedroom and Mycroft knocked on the door.

"Jack, it's us," Sherlock loudly whispered, "Can we talk to you?"

Jack opened the door and jokingly said, "I didn't order any cookies."

Sherlock looked tremendously confused and replied, "Err…we're not selling cookies."

Jack exchanged a grin with Mycroft and exclaimed, "Good. Because I'm not ordering any. What's up?"

"Can you take us to the store?" Mycroft asked.

Jack looked surprised and asked, "Why not have the Doctor take you?"

"We don't want him to know," Sherlock admitted, "We want it to be a surprise."

The brothers quickly explained why and Sherlock even added, "Please?"

"Sure, why not?" Jack easily said.

He ducked back into the bedroom and threw on his coat over his boxers. He then scrawled a quick note to the Doctor and grabbed the vortex manipulator.

"Where did you have in mind?" Jack asked.

Sherlock whispered a destination and Jack grinned, "Sure thing. Hold on."

The brothers grabbed his arm and he hit the button on his wrist. The two closed their eyes and when they opened them, they saw that they were in a bowtie warehouse.

"Wicked," Sherlock grinned.

They couldn't choose one so they got him five:

One that spun around like helicopter blades, allowing the person to levitate

One that changed colors

One that had mini bow-ties on it

One that vibrated when there was danger nearby

One that produced lovely music

"He's going to love them," Jack assured the brothers as they zapped back to the Tardis, landing in the console room.

Unfortunately, the Doctor was still awake. He frowned and slowly said, "Really?"

The Doctor then held up a note:

GONE FISHING

JACK, SHERLOCK, MYCROFT

"Really?" Mycroft asked Jack.

"Sorry," Jack shrugged.

The Doctor crossed his arms and asked, "Where were you?"

The three exchanged guilty looks but didn't answer.

"I'm going to count to three," the Doctor decided, "One, two, three…"

"Three, two, one, go!" Jack cried.

Sherlock and Mycroft simultaneously spun around and raced away. The two brothers ducked into the bedroom and Jack hastily said, "Well Doctor, it's been fun but I'm afraid that I have to get going. I'll be at Cardiff if you need anything. Bye!"

Before the Doctor could do anything, Jack touched the vortex manipulator and left.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and clicked his Sonic. Jack reappeared and walked several steps before realizing where he was. He looked sheepish, but the Time Lord merely said, "You might want to get some trousers."

"They've seen worse," Jack grinned before hitting the button again.

The Doctor clicked the sonic and this time Jack was ready. His arms were crossed and he impatiently sighed, "What?"

"You're not getting away that easily. You kidnapped my companions!"

"Kidnap is a bold word," Jack lightly said, "They asked me to take them."

The Doctor looked slightly hurt as he asked, "Why not ask me?"

Jack grinned and remarked, "Why don't you ask them that? Oh and for the record I'm taking this thing off before you can teleport me back again."

He hit the button and vanished. The Doctor clicked the Sonic but nothing happened. He sighed and entered the bedroom. At first glance, it was completely empty. He sat on the bed before flipping upside down to face Sherlock beneath it.

"Seems a bit overt, don't you think?"

"It's so overt, it's covert," Sherlock mumbled.

Nevertheless he sighed and crawled out.

The Doctor then calmly walked over to the wardrobe and opened it. Mycroft fell out and the Doctor caught him before he hit the floor.

"Thanks," Mycroft muttered.

"Alright boys, what's going on?"

Mycroft glanced at Sherlock who suddenly burst out, "Look we wanted to do something special because it's Father's Day and we never did anything for our father because well you've seen how he is and we just wanted to say thank you for everything that you've done so far!"

Sherlock paused, wondering if he had just said all of that aloud. He glanced at his brother who swallowed and said, "Well…that pretty much summarizes it."

"We're really sorry that we snuck out," Sherlock pressed, before the Doctor could say anything, "But we wanted to surprise you!"

"Happy Father's Day, Doctor," Mycroft mumbled, handing him a wrapped box.

The Doctor looked both surprised and touched. He unwrapped the present and stared at the bowties and picture in awe.

"We're sorry that we snuck out," Sherlock repeated, the rest of his sentence muffled as the Doctor tightly hugged him and Mycroft.

"Thank you," the Doctor gently said.

"You're welcome!"

"You should thank Jack," Mycroft sheepishly said, "He was the one who took us."

"You're welcome," Jack called.

The three turned, amused, and Jack poked his head in the doorway, "Sorry. Don't mean to interrupt. Apparently my supervisor doesn't want me strutting around in my boxers. He said not after the last time."

He hit the vortex manipulator and was gone.

"Doctor," Sherlock slowly said, "Your friends are weird."


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: Have you ever read something that a character does and have gotten irrationally angry at that fictional-character? As it turns out, you can also do that even when you're the one writing exactly what that character is doing. In these next two chapters, Mycroft is that character. But don't worry. In the end, Mycroft realizes how much he messed up. Common sense smacks him and leaves a mark. Or was that a lobster? Alright this makes no sense unless you read the next two chapters. So…Geronimo!

Chapter Twelve

It's amazing how many times the world could come close to ending, without you even knowing about it.

Mycroft set _Journey's End_ on his bedside table and glanced over at his brother. Sherlock was sound asleep. Like Mycroft, his brother had no idea that Daleks had stolen Earth. Mycroft glanced up at the clock. They had been traveling with the Doctor for three months. Three months. It was unbelievable. Mycroft had sprouted up several inches. Sherlock had a birthday coming up.

"Oh no," Mycroft whispered as he suddenly realized something.

Sherlock wasn't the only one who had a birthday coming up.

He settled back, hating himself for what he was going to do tomorrow. Hopefully his brother and the Doctor would understand. After all, it wasn't like it was the end of the world.

They spent most of the next day riding dolphin-like aliens across a salty sea. Upon returning to the Tardis, Sherlock retrieved his violin and performed a song. His eyes glazed over while doing so, and only focused when the Doctor and Mycroft enthusiastically clapped.

Sherlock proudly smiled before noticing the look on his brother's face.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock suspiciously asked.

"Sherlock," Mycroft sighed, "I hate to say this but…I think that we need to go home."

"What?"

As it turns out, Sherlock and the Doctor didn't take it well. The latter jumped up, looking horrified. Sherlock's violin tumbled to the ground.

"Hang on," Mycroft quickly said, "I meant for the weekend. That's all."

They both relaxed though Sherlock pouted and whined, "Why?"

"Tomorrow's Father's birthday."

"So?"

"It's his fortieth birthday."

"So?"

"He might appreciate it if we show up."

"Why?"

"We're his sons."

"So?"

"Sherlock!"

"Mycroft!"

The Doctor laughed and gently said, "Sherlock, I think that your brother may be right."

Sherlock crossed his arms and snapped, "After everything that Father's done…"

"He's still your father," the Doctor reminded him.

Sherlock gave such a dramatic sigh that Mycroft laughed and said, "It's just for the weekend, Sherlock."

Sherlock sighed once more before turning to the Doctor and slowly saying, "One weekend. I will go for one weekend. Today's Friday. You'll come and get us on Sunday?"

"Alright."

"Promise?"

"I promise," the Doctor sincerely said.

"Fine," Sherlock muttered.

The Doctor laughed and hit a button, excitedly exclaiming, "That's the spirit!"

() () ()

Mycroft wasn't sure what he had been expecting. The Holmes family was never one for mushy reunions but he thought that his father would be a bit more excited to see them.

The Doctor parked the Tardis in the park across the road. Sherlock and Mycroft bracingly entered the flat, only to find that their father was elbow-deep in forms and files.

"Hello," Mr. Holmes coldly said.

"Hello, Father," Mycroft politely said.

Sherlock curtly nodded.

Mr. Holmes glanced up and grunted, "How nice of my sons to take time from their fantasy in order to come back to reality."

"Good to see you too," Sherlock sardonically said.

Mycroft nudged him and tried to sound cheerful as he remarked, "We wanted to celebrate your birthday. We know that it's tomorrow."

"We don't celebrate birthdays."

"Right," Mycroft slowly said, "Well…we thought that we would come anyway."

"This weekend is going to be dreadful," Sherlock hissed.

As usual, Sherlock was right. Their father barely said two words to them for the rest of the night. He made cabbage soup for dinner. Sherlock slept in the nursery and Mycroft slept in his dreadful bedroom. They both barely got any sleep.

On Saturday morning, the two brothers were dismayed when their father announced that he had to spend the day at work. He left without another word.

Mycroft sighed and went to get the post.

"Hi, Mycroft."

Mycroft glanced up and saw that a girl was standing near his doorstep. She looked around his age; perhaps a little older. Her golden hair was pulled back into a long braid and her blue eyes were sparkling.

"Oh," Mycroft said, his ears reddening, "Hi. I'm sorry. Who are…?"

"Alyssa," Alyssa immediately gushed, "I'm a year ahead of you. At…at school, that is. I live down the street and…I was…I was just wondering…wondering if you would like to accompany me to dinner? Tonight?"

Mycroft gave a start. Was he being asked out? He managed to intelligently say, "Err…"

Alyssa looked disappointed and softly said, "Oh. Well, thanks anyway."

"I'm sorry," Mycroft apologized, "I'm not allowed to date."

Very smooth, Mycroft thought.

Alyssa laughed and gently said, "It's just dinner."

"I…I'm really not…I can't…I'm sorry…" Mycroft quietly said.

She flushed and said, "No, no. _I'm_ sorry…I…I've been wanting to ask you out for a few months but it was foolish. I'll just go."

She turned and walked away. A few months? Really? Mycroft couldn't even remember her and now he had hurt her feelings.

The Doctor had said that he wasn't allowed to date. It was Rule Four. But it's not like the rules were meant to be taken seriously. The Doctor had even skipped over Rule Five! And it's not like the Doctor would know. One dinner and he'd return to the flat and the Doctor would come tomorrow and everything would be back to normal. Well, not normal. Traveling across the universe was not normal. But maybe that's why he needed to go to dinner. To have a single night of normalcy.

() () ()

"It's only a few hours," Mycroft pressed.

"Where do you need to go?" Sherlock pressed.

"I just need to run a few errands," Mycroft lied and felt a pang of guilt. It was the first time that he had actually lied to his brother in quite a long time.

He had called the restaurant to make reservations, had dressed up in his best suit, and was now trying not to panic. His father had surprisingly been fine with the excuse that he needed to run errands. Sherlock was giving him a harder time.

"Alright," Sherlock suspiciously said, "So…I'll just wait here."

Mycroft adjusted his blazer and sheepishly asked, "Does this look alright?"

"Seems a bit overdressed for running errands."

Mycroft rolled his eyes and said, "Sherlock, please…"

"And what should I tell the Doctor?"

"You don't need to tell him anything," Mycroft assured him.

"What if I _want _to tell him?"

Mycroft paused, horrified, and sharply asked, "Are you…are you blackmailing me?"

"Not at all," Sherlock said with a coy smile, "I'm merely insinuating that I might tell him how mature you're being by dressing up in a suit and running errands at 6:00 in the evening."

Mycroft nearly laughed and said, "I'll be back later tonight. Just stay here with Father."

"Mycroft," Sherlock called, "You owe me one."

Mycroft nodded and left.

Sherlock frowned, wondering if his brother truly thought that he was that thick. He shook his head and went downstairs. Unfortunately, he couldn't get to the kitchen without passing his father's study. Even more unfortunate, the door was open.

"Sherlock Holmes!" Mr. Holmes barked, "No snacks. You'll ruin your dinner."

Sherlock sighed and asked, "What are we having?"

"Cabbage soup."

"Again?"

"Yes."

"The dinner will ruin my snacks!" Sherlock angrily retorted.

"Not funny, young man. Stay away from the kitchen."

The Doctor would have laughed at his joke.

Sherlock indignantly ignored his father and went into the kitchen. He pulled himself onto the counter, swallowing at the prospect of falling, and reached for the tin of biscuits. It was so much easier when you could simply ask the Tardis to materialize a snack. Or when you had Mycroft's shoulders to sit on. He reached for the tin of biscuits. His foot slipped and before he could understand what was happening, he ended up wobbling and falling backwards.

Fortunately, he fell into the Doctor's arms. The Time Lord grinned and Sherlock enthusiastically cried, "Thanks, Doctor!"

"Don't mention it," the Doctor gently said. Of course, he wasn't about to tell Sherlock that he had nearly had a double heart-attack upon entering the kitchen and seeing that his companion was about to be injured. And the Doctor certainly wasn't about to tell Sherlock that there would come a time when he wasn't going to be there to catch Sherlock when he fell.

Sherlock beamed and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm early," the Doctor beamed as he set Sherlock down, "I was bored."

Sherlock tilted his head and asked, "How can you be bored? You can travel anywhere in time and space!"

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, "That's true. But it gets boring on your own. Grab Mycroft and we can get going!"

He spun around, ready to go.

Sherlock froze and anxiously stammered, "Mycroft's not…here."

"Where is he?" the Doctor lightly asked.

Sherlock swallowed and the Doctor turned around. The Time Lord saw how guilty Sherlock looked and frowned, quietly repeating his question, "Where is he?"

"He's…on a date," Sherlock admitted.

"What!?"

The Doctor closed his eyes, exasperated, and Sherlock immediately cried, "Don't tell him that I told you!"

The Doctor opened his eyes and asked, "With _whom_?"

"I don't know," Sherlock shrugged, "I know that he was talking to someone on the doorstep earlier."

The two ran outside, careful to creep past the study. Fortunately, Mr. Holmes didn't even look up. The Doctor pulled out his Sonic Screwdriver, scanning the ground. He looked horrified at the readings.

"Doctor, what's wrong?"

"This is not good," the Doctor whispered.

The Doctor pulled Sherlock back inside. This time, Mr. Holmes saw them as they raced past the study. He leapt up and angrily shouted, "What's going on? What are you doing in my house?"

The Doctor paused and Sherlock couldn't tell who was angrier at whom. The Doctor towered over Mr. Holmes as he quietly said, "What's going on? Your son is on a date. That's what's going on. He's on a date with a potentially lethal alien. Did you know that he was on a date? Did you even care?"

"Doctor," Sherlock quietly said. He was not blind to the fact that the Doctor had protectively stepped in front of him, just in case.

The Doctor fiercely continued, "Or are you too preoccupied with your bloody job to care about your sons?"

"Doctor!" Sherlock pointedly cried, "What was that about Mycroft being on a date with a potentially lethal alien?"

The Doctor paused and boomed, "Quite right, Sherlock. Thank you for prioritizing."

Before Mr. Holmes could say one word, the Doctor shut the door in his face and clicked the Sonic so that the lock jammed.

He turned around and urgently asked, "Do you know where they went?"

"I overheard him talking to the restaurant on the phone," Sherlock cried, "He's going to the Delicto Bistro but I don't know where that is."

"Do you have a phonebook?"

"I think so," Sherlock squeaked, opening the cupboard and trying to look through the clutter, "But Scutt is horrible housekeeper. It could be anywhere."

He straightened up and suggested, "We could call the Operator."

"He wouldn't know the coordinates," the Doctor remarked. He leaned against the door of the study and shouted, "Do you know where the Delicto Bistro is?"

He was met with a series of cusses and threats.

"Thanks anyway," the Doctor offered.

The Time Lord then looked up and grinned as he thought of an idea. He stumbled over to the telephone, punched in a number and anxiously cried, "Jack? I need your help. I need you to look up the coordinates for Delicto Bistro. It's an emergency! Mycroft's on a date! Yes, that does constitute as an emergency! Jack! Thanks."

He hung up the phone and took a deep breath before turning to Sherlock and brightly asking, "How would you like to go out for dinner?"


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: This is the longest chapter in the entire story (so far) but I promise that it's worth it! It was the most amusing to write.

Chapter Thirteen

Mycroft had absolutely no idea what to do or what to say. Compliments. Girls liked compliments, right?

He felt a tap on his shoulder and immediately cried, "You look lovely, tonight!"

He glanced up and felt his heart plummet as the Doctor smirked and said, "Thanks! I got a new bowtie! Sherlock picked it out!"

"What are you doing here?" Mycroft whispered.

"He's early!" Sherlock excitedly cried, racing over, "Hi, Mycroft!"

"Hi," Mycroft said with a tight smile, "Sherlock, I thought that you were going to stay home with Father."

"That's boring," Sherlock said, dismissively.

"Indeed," the Doctor boomed, "Right! Grab your coat and we can get going!"

"Not yet," Mycroft spluttered.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm…I'm on a date," Mycroft burst out.

The Doctor grimaced and said, "I know. I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt by not saying anything but seeing as how you brought it up…well, we'll talk about it later."

"You're right," Mycroft said with a nod, "Later."

He shuffled the menu and fidgeted with his tie before noticing that the two hadn't left.

"Mycroft," the Doctor quietly said, "Come along."

"One date," Mycroft pleaded, "Please. It's my first date. Can't I just see it through?"

"What's more important?" Sherlock asked, "Your first date or us?"

Mycroft sighed and said, "It's not that you two aren't important. But can't I just have one night of…normalcy?"

"No," Sherlock and the Doctor simultaneously replied.

"Normalcy," the Doctor repeated, as if the very word was a curse, "Normalcy…"

"Please," Mycroft urged, "Don't make me beg."

"Mycroft?"

Alyssa had arrived, looking slightly confused as she asked, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Mycroft said, standing up to greet her. The Doctor rolled his eyes before nudging Mycroft, prompting him to remember to say, "You look lovely!"

She did too. Better than lovely.

Alyssa smiled and said, "Aw, thank you! Who is this?"

"This is Sherlock; my brother," Mycroft explained, "And this is my…friend. They were just leaving."

"No we weren't," the Doctor replied with a bright smile, "I heard that this restaurant has phenomenal shrimp."

"You don't need to eat," Mycroft hissed, "Not as much as us, anyway."

"That doesn't mean that I don't fancy shrimp," the Doctor whispered, "Besides, Sherlock could use a good meal. Your father was making cabbage soup for dinner!"

"So?"

"Cabbage is disgusting," the Doctor replied, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

He pulled Mycroft away from the table and hissed, "What do you know about this girl?"

Mycroft looked slightly amused and remarked, "Her name's Alyssa."

"Does Alyssa have a last name?"

"I…I assume so," Mycroft spluttered.

"Where did you meet her?"

"Err…" Mycroft suddenly felt pathetic as he admitted, "On my doorstep."

"This morning?"

"Is this an interrogation?" Mycroft asked, painfully aware that Alyssa was staring, "She said that she knew me. She's a year ahead of me."

"Well isn't that convenient?"

"What does that mean?" Mycroft heatedly asked. Before the Doctor could reply, he continued, "Look. It's just dinner. That's all. She's nice, she's pretty, she asked me out, and I agreed to go. I know that human interactions aren't your strongest point but…"

"Yes," the Doctor murmured, slightly distracted, "She is pretty, isn't she?"

He turned back to Alyssa and loudly said, "You are extremely beautiful. You look absolutely perfect. Stunning, really Especially your eyes. They're the bluest eyes in the universe."

"Thank you," Alyssa said, awkwardly.

"Well," Mycroft muttered, "I'm glad that you approve."

"Oh, I never said that I approve."

"Well I don't need your approval!" Mycroft angrily snapped.

He immediately regretted it.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows but merely stared at Mycroft. It was a look of hurt, amusement, and fury. It was a look that told someone that they had done something wrong. It was a look that caused Mycroft to want to take his sentence back. Finally, the Doctor quietly said, "I suppose not. Come along, Sherlock. Let's sit next to the aquarium."

His brother looked confused but nodded and joined the Doctor. Mycroft sighed but stood by what he had said. He and Alyssa sat down and began to converse. Sherlock and the Doctor sat on the opposite side of the restaurant but Mycroft could feel the Doctor staring at him. Mycroft had half a mind to tell him to leave. The Doctor didn't need to spy on their date. What was his problem anyway?

"Mycroft," Alyssa pressed, "Did you hear me?"

"Sorry," Mycroft stammered, "Err…what?"

Alyssa giggled and repeated her question, "Where have you been the past three months?"

"Well," Mycroft said, hesitantly, "I've been travelling."

The waiter came and took their order. Mycroft fumbled with his silverware for a moment before Alyssa excitedly gushed, "Wow! Traveling where? Did you go to the States?"

"Once," Mycroft said before catching himself.

"What about your brother?" Alyssa asked, "What did he do?"

"He went with me," Mycroft admitted, "Or rather, I went with him. He explored, learned how to play the violin, the usual…"

Travelled in a blue police box, went across the universe, befriended dozens of aliens, made an enemy out of a dozen more, befriended an immortal man, destroyed a supercomputer, outsmarted Weeping Angels, went to the greatest toy store in the universe, went to the greatest amusement park in the universe, ate a wide variety of food, etc. The usual.

"I've always wanted to learn how to play the violin," Alyssa admitted, "Maybe your brother can play for me, sometime?"

Mycroft chuckled and said, "I doubt it. He doesn't play for just anyone."

"He plays for me!"

The Doctor's cheerful shout could be heard by everyone in the restaurant.

Mycroft swore beneath his breath and the Doctor added, "Oi! Watch your language!"

Was he really going to play that game? Using his super-alien-sonic-hearing or whatever it was called to listen in on their date? Mycroft glanced over at the table and saw that the Doctor looked very pleased with himself and that Sherlock was softly chuckling.

"Wow," Alyssa said, looking surprised, "He has really good hearing."

"I'm sorry," Mycroft apologized, "Perhaps we can go somewhere more private."

"Don't even think about it," the Doctor roared, "I will literally pick you up and carry you out of this restaurant!"

By now, Sherlock had dissolved into fits of giggles.

Mycroft realized that his sentence could be taken out of context and his cheeks immediately flamed as he stammered, "No, I…I didn't mean that. I meant that we could go to another table that's farther away."

"Mycroft, it's fine," Alyssa said, laughing, "Relax. I don't mind sitting here."

Mycroft nodded and hoped that his cheeks weren't too red. The Doctor was right. Her eyes were the bluest eyes that Mycroft had ever seen.

Alyssa gave him a wide and reassuring smile before saying, "So, travelling? That's amazing. Was it dangerous?"

"Incredibly," Mycroft bragged, "But we had the…our friend. He protected us."

"He's a funny thing isn't he?" Alyssa asked, glancing over at their table, "He's alien."

"You have no idea," Mycroft muttered.

He glanced up at the Doctor who stared right back, eyebrows raised and mouth curved into an indignant smirk. Sherlock was eagerly digging at the shrimp but the Doctor barely touched his. Mycroft admitted that it was weird to have a pair of eyes constantly on you. He and Alyssa talked for a few minutes before Mycroft felt something hit the back of his head.

"What was that?" Alyssa cried.

"A piece of shrimp," Mycroft muttered.

"Where did it come from?"

"I have no idea," Mycroft lied, "Now, where were we?"

Another piece hit him. Then a third. A fourth overturned his glass of water.

Mycroft turned and saw that the Doctor was preparing to throw a fifth piece. Upon realizing that he had been caught, he slowly sank back into his chair. His smirk widened.

Mycroft decided to fight fire with fire. He picked up a piece and threw it back. It barely reached the Doctor's table but the point had been made. The Doctor raised his eyebrows and it was Mycroft's turn to smirk. The Doctor threw a dinner roll. Mycroft threw a tomato from his salad. This time, it actually managed to reach the Doctor's table. Mycroft smugly turned back around before feeling an enormous _lobster_ hit him in the back of his head.

Alyssa gasped and Mycroft hissed, "Really?"

He picked it up and stomped over to the Doctor's table, bending down and muttering, "I believe that this belongs to you."

"Actually it belongs to this delightful couple," the Doctor admitted, gesturing to the table next to them where an elderly couple was looking bewildered. It wasn't every day that a man in a bowtie chucked their dinner across the restaurant.

Sherlock's face was as red as the lobster as he roared with laughter. Mycroft rolled his eyes and elbowed the tray of butter. It splattered onto the Doctor's coat.

"Oh, sorry," Mycroft coolly said, "It was an accident."

He went to turn but was immediately drenched by an entire pitcher of water.

"Are you serious?"

"It was an…accident?"

"Excuse me?"

The restaurant manager had appeared, scowling as he asked, "Is there a problem here?"

"No," Mycroft and the Doctor meekly said.

Mycroft stomped back over to his table and sincerely said, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Alyssa laughed, "He's an odd friend to have."

"Friend is actually a bold word," Mycroft loudly said, deciding that he was going to give the Doctor a good game, "I mean he's really just a funny man with a bowtie. Rubbish things, they are. Bowties. Not cool."

Another quick glance over and he saw that the smirk was gone. Mycroft smiled to himself but his next comments were drowned out by the arrival of their dinner. He and Alyssa were momentarily distracted by the scrumptious food.

"This is amazing," Alyssa said, "The best shrimp that I've ever had!"

"Yes, the food is delicious," Mycroft agreed, "It's just too bad some people would rather throw it across the restaurant than taste it."

Alyssa giggled and asked, "Honestly though, where do you find a friend like that? I mean what do you know about him?"

"What do you mean?" Mycroft asked through a mouth of shrimp.

"The Doctor," Alyssa pressed, twirling a piece of hair around her finger, "How much do you know about him?"

"I…Hang on," Mycroft trailed off, mentally going through her question before quietly saying, "I _know_ that I didn't mention the fact that he was called the Doctor."

"You didn't?" Alyssa softly asked.

"No," Mycroft said, flatly, "I didn't. How do you know him?"

"Everybody knows me. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

The Doctor was once again standing next to Mycroft. Despite his joke, he wasn't smiling and instead was emitting a cold fury. He firmly pulled Mycroft away from the table and aloofly remarked, "Time to go."

"What's going on?" Mycroft whispered.

"Let's shed a little light on your date," the Doctor suggested.

He took out his Sonic Screwdriver and clicked it. The lights in the restaurant immediately brightened. Mycroft shielded his eyes and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Saving you from commitment," the Doctor snarled.

Mycroft went to reply but Alyssa suddenly moaned and began to seize.

"Are you alright?" Mycroft gasped, starting forward.

"Mycroft," the Doctor quietly said, "Stay right where you are."

"Doctor, what's going on?" Sherlock cried, coming over.

The Doctor stepped in front of the brothers but Mycroft ducked around him.

"Mycroft!"

Instead of looking at Alyssa, Mycroft found himself staring at a creature. She…it resembled something of an aardvark. It began to unfold and expand into a monstrosity.

The Doctor grabbed Sherlock's hand and yelled for them to run. The three raced away and the creature began to follow, smashing the lights and overturning the tables.

The Doctor threw open the side-door and they ducked into the alley. The Tardis was standing next to the wall of the building.

"Great," Mycroft gasped, "Let's go inside!"

"No, no," the Doctor hastily said, "I don't want to take you away from your date. I mean that would just be alienating your normal life and I really have no place to interfere with your life because after all I'm just that funny man with the rubbish bowtie so I'll just be on my way."

He stepped inside and slammed the door.

Sherlock and Mycroft both gaped. Mycroft felt as though he had been kicked in the stomach. Before he could say anything, the door flew back open and the Doctor stepped out.

"Joking," he cried with a childish grin, "I just needed to grab a few things!"

He handed them each a pair of sunglasses, putting his own on. He then held up a large flashlight and flipped the switch. It emitted an intense beam of light just as the monster burst out of the restaurant. It immediately began to shake before completely dissolving. Mycroft covered his brother's eyes and tried not to vomit. He blinked and the monster was gone, as though it had never existed.

"That takes care of that," the Doctor calmly said, "Alright boys! Time to go!"

He opened the door and nodded for them to enter. Mycroft nearly sighed with relief before putting his arm around his brother's shoulders and helping him inside. He glanced around the console room and smiled. To think that he would delay his return for something as trivial as a date.

"Tonight was weird," Sherlock muttered.

Mycroft nearly laughed and agreed, "I think that the Doctor just exploded my date."

"I dissolved your date," the Doctor corrected, flipping several levers and pushing random buttons. The Tardis immediately made the familiar sound and Mycroft knew that they were off.

"What was that thing?" Mycroft asked.

"Little buggers," the Doctor muttered, "Literally bugs. Alien bugs. Big alien bugs. They actually have a really long name which is too hard to pronounce. They basically function like killer chameleons. They disguise themselves as the perfect human. The perfect date. That is, until they eat the other person at the end of the night."

Mycroft's jaw dropped and the Doctor continued, "Fortunately they can be easily killed by a bright source of light."

The Doctor suddenly glanced at Sherlock and apologetically said, "Sherlock Holmes, it is way past your bedtime. Come along."

"Are you going to yell at Mycroft?" Sherlock asked, anxiously.

The Doctor chuckled and said, "No. I promise."

It was obvious that Sherlock was skeptical. Mycroft was skeptical as well but he still followed the Doctor and Sherlock into the bedroom. The Doctor tucked Sherlock in and said goodnight.

"Goodnight," Mycroft offered.

The Doctor paused and said, "Mycroft, you don't have to go to bed right now."

"That's alright," Mycroft remarked, "It's been a long night…"

"Oh, I insist."

"Right," Mycroft sighed, hearing the underlying message, "I'll be out in a minute."

The Doctor nodded and left.

Mycroft sat on the edge of his brother's bed and softly said, "Sherlock, I'm sorry that I lied to you. I should have told you that I was going on a date."

"I already knew," Sherlock shrugged, "Between the suit, the freshly polished shoes, the cologne, the nervousness…it wasn't that hard to deduce. Not to mention the fact that I heard you making reservations at the restaurant. How do you think that the Doctor knew where to go?"

Mycroft grinned, proud of his brother for being so brilliant.

Sherlock settled back into his pillow and suddenly laughed, "We did try to warn you that you couldn't have one night of normalcy."

Mycroft grinned, "Hey, I'd take a blue box over blue eyes any day."

He bid his brother goodnight and went out into the main room. The Doctor was standing at the console, looking extremely thoughtful.

Mycroft sat down and pondered the night's events. The Doctor was surprisingly silent.

Mycroft nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a shrill ringing noise.

The Doctor glanced back at him before answering a nearby telephone.

"Hello? Hey, Jack. Yeah. Yeah, we found him."

Mycroft cringed. Jack knew?

"Thanks for that. Wasn't sure who else would know the restaurants. Don't worry, they're fine. Well…safe. No, I do not know what you are looking at and I'm not sure that I want to. A hole in the wall?"

The Doctor sighed and said, "You're at the restaurant. I'm sorry. It was just a simple alien parasite. I didn't think that Torchwood needed to be involved. Tell them that I gave you the rest of the night off. No? Ah well. Worth a shot. Listen, I'll make it up to you. I'll pay for the damages to the restaurant. What do you mean I never pay? Oi, I resent that. Yes, Mycroft's right here. No, I've got it covered. Thanks anyway. I'm fine. No, really. Thanks."

He hung up and Mycroft suddenly wished that he could disappear into the couch. He gave a start as he realized that the Doctor was rambling, "For your second date, I should take you to a restaurant on the moon of Elizor. _They_ have the best shrimp that I've ever tasted. The ones back there were barely edible. Though they were good for throwing."

"Am I allowed a second date?" Mycroft remarked.

"Oh," the Doctor cried in mock surprise, "Are you actually asking for my approval?"

Mycroft rolled his eyes but the Doctor wasn't done. The Time Lord turned around and angrily said, "Do you have any idea how I felt when I stopped by your house only for Sherlock to tell me that you were gone? You could have been anywhere in London!"

"Thought you weren't going to yell at me," Mycroft muttered.

"I'm not yelling," the Doctor coldly said, "Believe me when I say that if I was, you would know. I told you that we were going to talk about this later. It's later."

Mycroft knew that he wasn't going to be able to avoid the conversation. That didn't mean that he was going to let the Doctor have every minute of it. He crossed his arms and said, "For the record, Sherlock knew where I was."

"Because he figured it out," the Doctor snapped, "He's brilliant. You're brilliant too, if you would actually use your brain. Suppose that Sherlock hadn't figured it out? Suppose that we didn't know what restaurant you had gone to? You could have been killed. You lied to Sherlock and you broke one of my rules! Listen, I don't like rules any more than the next guy but when I set rules, I expect you to follow them! How many other rules have you broken?"

"None," Mycroft cried.

"Why should I believe you?"

Mycroft reeled back and angrily snapped, "That's a pretty bold statement coming from you! Rule One: The Doctor Lies and we still trusted you."

The Doctor didn't answer and instead turned back towards the console. Mycroft's frown deepened and he found himself asking, "So what now? Are you going to ground me? Prevent me from dating until I'm forty?"

"No," the Doctor remarked, "No, you've already proven that I have no real jurisdiction over you. If you want to go on a second date, so be it."

Mycroft gave a start at the Doctor's tone before muttering, "Well if I do manage to get a second date, I hope that it goes a lot better than this one."

"Oh come on," the Doctor said, bracingly, "It wasn't that bad."

He turned back around and two glanced at each other before cracking up.

Mycroft wiped actual tears from his eyes before saying, "You dissolved my date! My date was a bloody alien and you dissolved it."

"Yes, I did," the Doctor said with a sheepish grin, "Sorry about that!"

Mycroft frowned and quietly said, "Doctor, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I've been acting like a complete brat; especially back in the restaurant."

The Doctor gently smiled and replied, "I accept your apology but I honestly wasn't much better. I didn't _want_ to invade your privacy, mind you. I just knew that something was wrong. I knew that you wouldn't listen so I figured that I'd keep an eye on things. Though I did tell you that you that I didn't want you dating. It only leads to trouble."

"I've noticed," Mycroft muttered before bursting out, "Blimey that had to be the worst date in the history of the universe."

"I've experienced nastier ones," the Doctor admitted, "But yours is definitely on the list."

"Well," Mycroft mused, "You can't change the past."

The Doctor stared at him for a moment before pointedly asking, "Have you met me?"

The two laughed and Mycroft said, "Nah, that's alright. It makes for a good memory. Or rather an awkward-never-going-to-forget-because-you-and-Sher lock-won't-let-me memory."

"Never," the Doctor agreed, "And if you think that the past hour was awkward…I hate to do this Mycroft, but we need to talk."

"Haven't we been talking?" Mycroft asked with a snarky grin. He then quieted as he saw that the Doctor—the 1200-year-old Time Lord who zoomed through the universe—looked incredibly uncomfortable.

"Listen," the Doctor sighed, "I was hoping to put this off for a while and believe me when I say that I really do not want to do this but seeing as how you are at that age…"

Mycroft gave a start. They weren't just going to have a talk. They were going to have _the talk. _He didn't know whether to laugh or grimace.

The Doctor adjusted his bowtie and cleared his throat, "When a man and a woman…well it doesn't necessarily have to be a man and a woman…when two humans…well…when two beings in the universe like each other…or simply want to reproduce…or…well…"

"Doctor," Mycroft interrupted, deciding to put him out of his misery, "It's not that I don't enjoy listening to this but we had to take a course in school where we learned everything."

He couldn't help but to smirk as the Doctor let out a sigh of relief. Nonetheless, it was obvious that the Doctor wasn't finished, "Ahem. Good. But just so you know, as awkward as it may be, if you ever have any questions or if you somehow mess up, you can always come straight to me. And depending on what your problem is, I will either help you or toss you into the infinite void."

The two laughed and Mycroft said, "Thanks, Doctor. Thank you for everything tonight."

The Doctor softened and said, "You never have to thank me, Mycroft. Now! You have had an extremely long night! Off to bed."

Mycroft nodded and started towards the bedroom before stopping and saying, "Just for the record, I wouldn't even think about going on a second date without your approval."

The Doctor looked touched and Mycroft stood by what he had said. After all, he had been wrong in the restaurant. The Doctor was definitely more than the funny man with a bowtie.

EXTENDED ENDING

The Doctor gently said goodnight and waited a second longer before shutting the door, leaving the brothers to peacefully sleep. He returned back to the console room, only to find that Jack was waiting for him.

"All right?" Jack asked.

The Doctor didn't answer and instead asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Making sure that you didn't kill Mycroft," Jack said, teasingly.

The Doctor chuckled and said, "Nah. We actually had a pretty good conversation. He's still grounded, though. For a week…a month. Maybe two."

Jack laughed and said, "Doctor, relax. He went on a date. And to be fair, it was a horrible date. I think that he's already been through enough."

The Doctor growled out in frustration and repeated, "_He's_ been through enough? I'm the one who had to chase him all over London and dissolve an alien and give him the bloody talk…"

"Wait, what?" Jack interrupted, "You actually gave him the talk?"

He doubled over with laughter and the Doctor scowled.

"Mind recapping?" Jack managed to wheeze.

"I'd rather forget the whole thing," the Doctor mumbled.

"You can't stay mad at him forever," Jack patiently said.

"I'm not mad," the Doctor sighed, "Just…frustrated. I _told_ him that he wasn't allowed to date. It was Rule Four, Jack!"

"Oh no," Jack teased, "Not Rule Four. Next, he'll be saying that bowties aren't cool."

"He _did_ say that they weren't cool," the Doctor muttered.

"And you haven't thrown him into the infinite void?" Jack asked with a mock-gasp.

"You're not helping," the Doctor cried, "He said that friend was a harsh word, that I was just a funny man with the bowtie, and that bowties were rubbish. He apologized afterword but it still hurt. Although now that I think about it, I suppose that he might have just said that because I was listening in on the two of them…"

"You didn't," Jack gasped.

"I needed to make sure that he was safe," the Doctor argued, "And it's a good thing that I did because he could have been killed!"

Jack's smile widened and he said, "Doctor, don't you see what's going on? You aren't mad at Mycroft because he broke Rule Four! Blimey, you're upset because you're actually watching him grow up. You're watching the both of them grow up."

The Doctor turned away and quietly said, "I don't want to watch them leave."

"They're not going to leave," Jack softly promised.

"Oh really?"

For the first time in a while, the Doctor actually sounded harsh as he asked, "They're going to stay in the Tardis forever? They're _never_ going to leave?"

Jack sighed and admittedly said, "Okay, I misspoke. But here's the thing…no matter how old they get, no matter where they go, you will always still be the Doctor. Their Doctor. And they will always remember the funny man with the bowtie who took them on amazing adventures across the universe. That's what you do. You change people's lives. You show people like Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes just how much you care and how brilliant they are. That's not easily forgotten, Doctor."

The Doctor turned back around and smiled, "Thanks."

There was a pause before the Doctor added, "You're giving Sherlock the talk, when the time comes."

Jack laughed and replied, "No, no. You don't want me giving anyone the talk."

The Doctor had to agree but still said, "Well, I'm not going through that again."

"River?" Jack offered.

"Only as a last resort."

"Or we could let his father do the honors…"

"Absolutely not."

The Doctor's head suddenly snapped up and he groaned, "Oh no."

"What's wrong?"

"We have to go back to London," the Doctor cried, scrambling to press buttons.

"Why?"

The Doctor gave him a wry smile as he said, "I'm willing to bet that Mr. Holmes is still locked in the study."


	14. Chapter 14

Sherlock's mind was buzzing. This was not uncommon but it was still annoying when he wanted to get to sleep. He glanced up at the clock:

2:00 AM.

Sherlock sighed and whispered, "Mycroft? Mycroft!"

After a few seconds, his brother groggily answered, "What?"

"Are you awake?"

"Now I am," Mycroft snapped before concernedly asking, "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"I can't sleep."

"Well, I figured as much."

Sherlock huffed and his brother smiled before reclosing his eyes.

"Mycroft!"

"What?"

"I _can't_ _sleep_!"

"You've already said that," Mycroft pointed out.

Sherlock let out a loud sigh. Mycroft ignored him and he repeated it.

Mycroft finally sat up and asked, "What's on your mind?"

"Do you think that the Doctor is still up?"

"I dunno. Why?"

"I want to ask him a question."

"At this hour?" Mycroft sighed, but he knew that it was no use. When Sherlock set his mind to something, time became irrelevant. Ensuring that his brother got a proper amount of sleep was also irrelevant. Everything was pretty much irrelevant.

"Fine," Mycroft grunted, untangling himself from his blanket.

In the dark, he could see Sherlock's eyes light up. Mycroft chuckled and the two started down the corridor. Upon entering the console room, they saw that the Doctor _was_ still awake, thoughtfully staring at the console.

He looked up at their arrival and smiled, "Oh, hullo."

"Do you ever sleep?" Mycroft snorted, "Or do you just spend eight hours staring at the console until we wake up."

"Depends on the night," the Doctor admitted, "What's up?"

"Doctor, can I ask you something?" Sherlock pressed.

"Of course."

"How do you know us?"

The Doctor and Mycroft both gave a start. Mycroft thought that Sherlock was going to ask a question about one of their past adventures. Then again, Sherlock's mind never quite functioned as a logical line. Most people went from Point A to Point B to Point C until they finally reached the end of their thought. Sherlock often went from Point A to Point Z, choosing to randomly touch upon the other points when his subconscious found it most appropriate.

"I know you as Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes," the Doctor finally joked.

Sherlock didn't laugh and pressed, "River knew us. So did Jack. And you knew who we were, the moment you heard my name in the park. Why?"

"Yeah," Mycroft spoke up; he had been wondering the same thing for a while, "Why did you already know our names?"

"I'm the Doctor," he chuckled, "I know everything."

"Like what?" Sherlock pressed.

"Like what what?"

"What do you know?" Mycroft summarized.

The Doctor sighed and said, "I'm sorry. I can't tell you. Rule One."

"Forget the rules," Mycroft cried.

"You've done enough of that, already," the Doctor pointed out with a smirk.

Mycroft sighed. It had been a week since the date and the Doctor was nowhere close to letting him forget it. Mycroft really didn't mind; he _had_ screwed up. He _did_ mind that the Doctor was deflecting.

"It's something bad, isn't it?" Mycroft continued, "That's why you can't tell us?"

"It can't be that bad," Sherlock slowly said, "Jack and River both seemed pleasantly surprised. It's almost as if they were star-struck."

"There's that modesty," Mycroft muttered but he had to agree.

" 'Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes' " Sherlock quoted, " 'Are they just as brilliant as you had said?' "

"And Doctor, you said that we were even more so," Mycroft agreed, "I'm flattered, of course, but that means that you obviously had expectations."

"I _had_ to pick companions with eidetic memory," the Doctor muttered, "Boys, I'm really sorry. I cannot tell you."

"It's not…it's not something fatal, is it?" Mycroft nervously asked.

The Doctor hesitated before saying, "Technically no."

"Technically?" Sherlock snorted, "What does that mean?"

"We're only half-dead?" Mycroft added.

"Boys…"

"We're legally dead?" Sherlock suggested with a laugh.

"Boys…"

"We're dead inside?" Mycroft snickered.

"I honestly cannot tell you," the Doctor sadly said.

"What if we ask River or Jack?" Sherlock pressed, "What would they say?"

"They would tell you that I would kill them if they said anything," the Doctor brightly replied.

"Yes," Mycroft said, his mouth twitching, "But would they _technically_ be dead?"

"_Technically_ Jack wouldn't be," the Doctor laughed.

"That's it!" Sherlock snapped his fingers, "We're going to be immortal."

"No," the Doctor chuckled, "Afraid not."

Sherlock frowned but cheered up as Mycroft said, "Well, time can be rewritten."

"Not fixed points in time," the Doctor pointed out.

"We create a fixed point in time?" Sherlock and Mycroft excitedly asked.

The Doctor looked angry at himself. He quickly recomposed and said, "I'm sorry. I cannot say anything else."

"Fine," Sherlock huffed.

"Come on," Mycroft sighed, "Let's go back to bed."

Sherlock pouted and begrudgingly followed his brother.

He slammed the door and Mycroft quickly said, "Take it easy, Sherlock. Honestly, what did you expect?"

Sherlock ignored him and instead silently paced the room. Mycroft watched him for a moment before gently grabbing his shoulder.

"Sherlock, listen…"

"We've been travelling with him for three months!" Sherlock burst out, "Three months and eight days! Why doesn't he trust us?"

"I _do_ trust you," the Doctor called, from the other side of the door.

The two brothers glanced at each other and Mycroft opened the door. The Doctor fell forward, leapt up, and gently continued, "The reason I can't tell you has nothing to do with me trusting you. It has to do with me protecting you."

"Alright," Mycroft softly said, "Thanks, Doctor."

"Yeah," Sherlock agreed, "Thank you."

Once again, the Doctor tucked Sherlock in and asked Mycroft if there was anything else that he needed. Mycroft shook his head and the Doctor gently said goodnight before leaving.

"Mycroft?"

"Yeah?"

"I still can't sleep," Sherlock whined.

"Neither can I," Mycroft admitted before mumbling, "I was doing just well, thank you, until you had to ask what our future purpose was."

"I was curious," Sherlock sighed.

Mycroft chuckled, "You're not over it, are you?"

"Of course not," Sherlock firmly said, "I'm just getting started. We should find a way to ask Jack and River."

"The Doctor said that they weren't going to say anything," Mycroft pointed out.

"We can still ask them," Sherlock shrugged.

"Fine," Mycroft agreed, "So long as we don't get in trouble."

Sherlock huffed and Mycroft hissed, "I'm NOT sitting through another one of the Doctor's talks."

"What?"

"Nothing," Mycroft chuckled, "Alright. It's worth a shot."

The next morning the two asked the Doctor if they could invite Jack and River along for their adventure. The Doctor cheerfully agreed and said that he'd take them to the Paradisus Hot Springs. He made a few calls and traveled back in time to leave a few messages.

"Okay," he finally said, "They should be over soon. Until then, would you two mind if I take a nap? I haven't slept in a few days."

"Not at all," Mycroft gently said and Sherlock agreed.

He leapt onto a hammock beneath the console room and was out within seconds. The brothers patiently waited until Jack arrived.

"Jack!"

"Hi, Jack!"

Jack laughed and hugged them.

"Can you do us a favor?" Sherlock whispered.

"Sure," Jack exclaimed, "In fact, I have a favor to ask of you!"

"Brilliant," Sherlock smirked, "We'll trade off."

Jack frowned and thoughtfully said, "Well, hang on. I want to make sure that it's a fair trade off. What's your favor?"

"We want to know how you, River, and the Doctor all seem to know us." Mycroft quietly asked, "What's so special about our future?"

Jack hesitated before saying, "Fine. I'll tell you, after you pull off my favor. But it's going to be tricky."

"What is it?" Sherlock eagerly asked.

Jack held up what looked like a small thing of eye-drops and explained, "I need you to put three drops of this in the Doctor's hair."

"Why?" Mycroft snorted, "Does he have lice or something?"

"No questions asked," Jack hastily said, "Until later, that is."

"Okay," Sherlock laughed, "But I sincerely doubt that the Doctor is just going to let us put random drops in his hair!"

"Yes, that's true," Jack agreed before nodding down to the hammock, "But I doubt that he's going to put up much of a fight if he's sleeping."

"So," Mycroft slowly said as he took the bottle from him, "Three drops and then you'll tell us what we want to know?"

"Yep."

"Okay," Sherlock said, sticking out his hand, "You've got yourself a deal."

Jack shook it. He then crept down the corridor, for what he called safety measures, and Sherlock slipped something into his pocket.

"What was that?" Mycroft suspiciously asked.

"Nothing," Sherlock shrugged.

Mycroft took a deep breath and they crept over to stand above the Doctor.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," Mycroft muttered, before squeezing three drops out. They landed on the Doctor's hair but nothing changed.

They shrugged and headed back down the corridor.

Jack was waiting outside his bedroom.

"Sorry," Mycroft whispered, "Nothing happened."

"It takes a few minutes to set in," Jack chuckled, "But listen…I really can't tell you anything. The Doctor would throw me into the infinite void for an eternity. Sorry, boys."

"WHAT THE . . . ?"

Jack threw back his head and laughed before repeating, "Boys, I am so sorry."

He reached for his wrist but nothing happened.

"Looking for something?" Sherlock asked with a smirk. He took the vortex manipulator from his pocket and teasingly held it up.

The brothers laughed at the look on Jack's face just as the Doctor came up the corridor.

"What…the…?" Mycroft gasped.

Jack grinded his teeth and rubbed the back of his neck.

Sherlock licked his lips but couldn't say anything.

The Doctor took a deep breath before dangerously asking, "Would somebody like to explain why my hair is _neon-green_?"

They merely gaped at him.

"Hello, Sweetie," River called from the console room, having no doubt used her own vortex manipulator to arrive. She poked her head in the corridor and merely stared.

For a tense moment, nobody said anything.

Then, the sound of laughter was enough to shake the entire Tardis. Mycroft and Sherlock clung onto each other for support. Jack fell onto the floor and River leaned against the wall. The Doctor glowered before eventually joining in.

Mycroft and Sherlock looked at Jack for answers and Jack wheezed, "Found…it…a… few…years…ago! Three drops and it completely changes the hair. Don't worry! I have the antidote! Along with a few other colors!"

"We're so sorry, Doctor," Mycroft gasped before taking one look at the Time Lord and cracking up again.

The Doctor tried to frown but couldn't pull it off.

Nonetheless, he still said, "Okay. Rule Thirteen. If Jack ever tells you to help him pull a prank…DON'T!"

"We're sorry!" Sherlock cackled, "It was a trade-off! One simple prank for answers."

This time, the Doctor succeeded at frowning, "Answers about what?"

Sherlock looked guilty as he admitted, "About how you three know us…"

The Doctor groaned and turned to Jack, "You didn't tell them anything?"

"Of course not," Jack promised.

"Good," the Doctor gently said before screaming, "THAT STILL DOESN'T EXCUSE THE FACT THAT MY HAIR IS GREEN!"

Jack whispered something to the Doctor who looked thoughtful before saying, "Fine. I suppose that you two are off the hook. Jack, I don't suppose that those come in ginger?"

He and Jack went back into the console room but Mycroft quickly said, "River…"

She stopped and Mycroft hesitated before saying, "I don't suppose that _you_ would be able to tell us why you already knew who we were?"

She smiled and said, "Ah, Mycroft. Spoilers."

"What if I told you something that I knew about your future?" Mycroft eagerly said.

After all, several weeks ago he had read _Forest of the Dead_.

She merely smiled and said, "Well then, that would be double the spoilers."

She headed into the console room and Mycroft and Sherlock disappointedly trudged into the bedroom. The Doctor came in shortly after. His hair was back to normal but the three laughed all the same.

The Doctor then became serious as he asked, "You two are never going to let your question go, are you?"

"Never," Mycroft and Sherlock simultaneously said.

"But you're never going to tell us, are you?" Mycroft muttered.

"Never," the Doctor sighed, "You'll find out, eventually."

The brothers still looked disappointed.

The Doctor softened and said, "But I will say this…Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes, you are going to be brilliant. You already _are_ brilliant and your brilliance is only going to escalate."

He put a hand on either brother's shoulder and continued, "Don't worry. Everything is going to work out for the better."

His eyes sparkled with sincerity as he quietly said, "No matter what happens, no matter how things may seem, everything is going to be alright. You two are going to be brilliant and together you're going to be able to get through anything. Do you understand?"

Sherlock and Mycroft stared at him in wonder before nodding.

"Alright then," the Doctor softly said, "Off to the Hot Springs!"

He ruffled their hair and ushered them back into the console room. The Tardis zoomed off and within minutes, the five were sinking into hot and steamy pools. It _was_ relaxing, even for Sherlock who soon forgot all of his troubles.

That is, until he glanced down at his reflection and then looked over at Mycroft. Mycroft returned the glance and the three looked over at the adults who were trying not to laugh.

"DOCTOR!"

After all, it wasn't every day that one had neon-pink hair.


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: It's a Sherlock-focused chapter. I love those!

Chapter Fifteen

They had failed. The Doctor, Mycroft, River, Jack, and Sherlock entered the church sporting black clothing and heavy hearts. Several people gave them smiles and a few even clapped but most merely turned away.

"Some days," the Doctor muttered, "Some days, you don't win. I don't like those days."

They _had_ technically won, but it was a shallow victory. Yesterday, the three had landed on a planet that was rumored to make the best pies in all of space and time. The pies _had_ been delicious but short-lived. As it turned out, a monster had been rampaging through the village.

The five had managed to finally stop the monster using their wits, a few pies, a nifty invention from the Tardis, Jack's ability to not die when he was swallowed, and sheer luck.

Unfortunately, the monster had still managed to kill several families.

They took their seats and River reached up, sadly adjusting the Doctor's black bowtie.

"I really hate funerals," Mycroft sadly whispered and the Doctor put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Sherlock squirmed in his suit and glanced up at the closed coffins. It was a community funeral. The entire village seemed to be packed into the small church. Sherlock tapped his fingers and glanced at the others. They all looked depressed, even Jack and River!

Sermons were sorrowfully read and memoirs were offered by friends.

An hour passed and then another. Sherlock's back ached and his head throbbed. He was bored. But saying so only caused Mycroft to sharply glare at him.

"How long do these usually last?" Sherlock whispered.

"Sherlock, that's enough," the Doctor quietly said, "Please, show some respect."

Sherlock was slightly wounded by the Doctor's tone and asked, "When we're done, can we go back and get a few pies?"

"Probably not, Sherlock," Jack sadly murmured.

A chorus began to sing a beautiful song but Sherlock wasn't paying attention. While everyone else was wiping their eyes, his eyes glazed over. He was utterly bored.

"Sherlock," Mycroft hissed, "Focus! You're acting extremely insensitive."

"But, I didn't even know them!" Sherlock argued, "Why do I need to…?"

"Sherlock," the Doctor reprimanded.

Somebody from behind hushed them.

"Quiet!"

"This is a funeral!"

Mycroft gave Sherlock a strange look and muttered, "What's wrong with you?"

"Mycroft!"

Sherlock leapt up and blindly pushed his way through the church, bursting outside.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock ignored the Doctor. His eyes stung and his skin prickled. He hazardously crossed the parking lot and used his key to enter the Tardis.

He briefly pondered the feeling; he hadn't felt like this for quite some time.

He was upset. Genuinely upset.

Something buzzed to his left. The Tardis had taken the liberty of preparing him a cup of tea. Sherlock appreciated the thought but declined.

"Sherlock!"

The door flew open and Mycroft and the Doctor entered.

"Sherlock, what…?" Mycroft shouted before pausing.

"Oh," the Doctor said, suddenly looking alarmed, "Oh no, oh no, not good."

"Why are you crying?" Mycroft asked in an extremely small voice.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Sherlock snarled. The Doctor reached out but Sherlock pulled away and entered the library, slamming the door.

Mycroft reeled back, both hurt and guilty. His own eyes bristled with tears but he was seemingly unaware of the fact.

Once again, the Doctor put a hand on his shoulder and Mycroft whispered, "What did I do? I didn't mean to…"

"I know," the Doctor reassuringly said.

"No, you don't get it!" Mycroft anxiously cried, "I have always been the one who comforted Sherlock. Everyone else either teased him or yelled at him. Especially when he doesn't …emotions haven't always been his strongest point…but he's just Sherlock. He doesn't get funerals and I knew that…and the worst part is that I'm not the first person who has yelled at him at a funeral."

Mycroft looked away and the Doctor softly said, "It's alright, Mycroft. I'll talk to him and see if…"

"No you won't," River corrected as she and Jack entered, "No offence, Sweetie, but he isn't going to want to talk to you."

The Doctor looked dismayed and Mycroft immediately said, "I'll talk to him."

"Nope," River retorted, "That's not going to work, either. It looks like it's up to me."

"You?" Mycroft skeptically asked.

"Yep. Let me through."

Meanwhile, Sherlock was wishing that his eyes would stop stinging. He wasn't sure why he had picked the library, until he realized that he was sadly going up and down the aisles, searching for something.

"Where's the dictionary?" Sherlock murmured.

A light brightened to his left, shining on the shelf that he needed.

"Thanks," Sherlock sighed. The Tardis hummed and he added, "Would you mind ke…keeping them out of here?"

The humming got louder and Sherlock repeated, "Thanks."

He gingerly picked the book up and flipped to the word:

_so·ci·o·path _

_Noun _

_A person with a personality disorder manifesting itself in extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior and a lack of conscience._

The door opened and Sherlock quickly wiped his eyes. To his surprise, River was standing in the doorway with a concerned Doctor behind her. Even more surprising, River swiftly thanked the Doctor before stepping into the room and closing the door in his face.

"_River!_"

"Trust me, Sweetie," River briskly called.

She then turned and calmly said, "Hello, Sherlock."

Sherlock merely stared at her.

"So," River said, taking a seat, "What's on your mind?"

"Everything," Sherlock mumbled.

River glanced around before admitting, "I don't think that I've ever been in here. Is it always this messy?"

Sherlock didn't bother to answer. He folded his hands and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for her to leave.

Something suddenly changed in River. The smile flattened and her eyes hardened as she quietly said, "Alright. I'm not here to make small-talk, Sherlock. I'm here to actually have a mature conversation. But seeing as you've gone comatose on me, I suppose that I can wait."

She leaned back, staring at the spot that Sherlock was looking at, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

After a few silent moments, they heard a knock on the door.

"Sherlock," Mycroft called, "Please come out!"

"Go away Mycroft," River pleasantly called, "We're busy staring at ceilings."

"Sherlock, I'm sorry that I upset you!" Mycroft shouted, "I'm so sorry! Can you please let me in? Please?"

And then the Doctor's voice, "Please let us in, Sherlock."

The two heard the unmistakable noise of the Sonic. The lock clicked but River took out her own Sonic and relocked the door. She and the Doctor kept this up for a good five minutes before the Doctor finally shouted, "Alright! Well…we're out here!"

Then it was Jack's turn, "Sherlock, would you please come out?"

This got Sherlock's attention, though he merely glanced down and shouted, "Jack, you have a vortex manipulator! Why don't you just come in?"

"Because I may have a vortex manipulator," Jack called, "But River has a blaster. Several blasters. And other weapons. And I'm rather afraid of what she might do if I were to invade your guys' privacy. So I figure that if I can get you to willingly come out, she won't repeatedly kill me."

Sherlock glanced over at River who brightly smiled. Sherlock chuckled and wiped his eyes before muttering, "Why _are_ you here?"

River chose her words carefully as she said, "I'm here to tell you that we have more in common than it may seem."

"You mean besides enjoying the rare qualities of ceilings?" Sherlock chuckled, though his eyes were still red-rimmed.

"Yes, besides that," River agreed with a wry smile, "Look, Sherlock. I understand…"

"Don't," Sherlock sharply said, immediately clamming up. His eyes glazed over and there was no mistaking the disappointed frown.

"Sherlock Holmes," River sharply said, "Look at me. Do you honestly think that I am the type of person who comfortingly says that I understand, so that people feel better?"

Sherlock glanced at her and River continued, "Believe me when I say that I did not want to go to that funeral. I feel sympathetic, of course. But I wasn't sad. The only time I was even slightly emotional in that church was when I realized that the Doctor was getting upset. Other than that, I didn't know why I needed to wipe my eyes and look depressed. No, that's not quite true. I knew why. It was socially acceptable. So when the chorus began to sing, as if hoping that the song would bring them back to life, I wiped my eyes and sniffed. It gets easier, once you know _what_ you do, even if you don't know why you logically should."

"So, you're saying that I should have sat through the funeral?" Sherlock muttered.

"Oh, I don't care," River shrugged, "Sherlock, I'm not here to tell you what's right and wrong. Nah, the Doctor can do that. So can Mycroft and Jack and everyone else in your life."

She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling, and whispered, "And that's boring."

Sherlock grinned at that.

"I'm here to tell you that I understand why you didn't want to sit in that funeral," River continued, "And I'm here to tell you that I know why it can be upsetting when nobody else understands. I've had decades and regenerations to help me understand. You've only had seven years."

Sherlock nodded, though he still looked upset.

River hesitated before saying, "Listen Sherlock, I just ranted about how I hate mushy stuff so I'm going to make this short and sweet: There is nothing wrong with you."

"Yes there is!" Sherlock argued, his eyes brimming with tears, "Look!"

"It's a dictionary," River wryly remarked before seeing that he wasn't smiling.

"Anderson called me one, once," Sherlock mumbled, wiping his eyes.

"A dictionary?"

"A sociopath!" Sherlock burst out, now on a desperate fight to wipe away his tears faster than they were falling.

"Oh," River said before asking, "Who's Anderson?"

"Boy at my school," Sherlock muttered, "He's in idiot."

"Clearly," River remarked, "If he's calling you a sociopath."

Sherlock closed his eyes and remembered, "Our professor's cat had died. Anderson and I bickered for a while before he smugly said, 'You're supposed to be brilliant and you don't even know what's wrong with you. You're a highly-functioning sociopath. Do your research!'"

"And you actually believed him?" River asked, shocked.

"No," Sherlock muttered, "Maybe. I don't know."

"Sherlock Holmes, look at me," River fiercely said. When he did, she furiously continued, "You are not a sociopath."

She was not angry at him but at this slimy boy who had enough nerve to upset Sherlock.

As if Sherlock didn't used to have to deal with…

"How do you know?" Sherlock murmured, hiding his face in his hands.

She leaned forward and softly whispered, "Sociopaths don't cry, Sherlock."

Sherlock's head snapped up, his eyes sparkling at this new information. He seemed to silently turn River's words over in his head before suddenly smiling.

River returned the smile and put an arm around his shoulders.

"You're right," Sherlock whispered, "I'm not…I'm not a sociopath!"

"Well I am," River quietly remarked, "But I still fell in love with the Doctor."

Sherlock stared at her, in wonder, and she smiled before saying, "Alright, are you feeling better? Because I'm pretty sure that your brother is going to break down the door."

Mycroft had been wriggling the doorknob for the past ten minutes. Sherlock glanced up at River and nodded. River clicked her Sonic, allowing the door to open and Mycroft to fall in.

"Sherlock, are you alright?" Mycroft asked, as River gave him a hand. The Doctor poked his head in and repeated the question. Jack was more patient but his eyes still shone with worry.

Sherlock nodded.

"I'm so sorry," Mycroft sincerely said, "I shouldn't have said that back there."

"I know," Sherlock simply said before adding, "I forgive you."

Mycroft looked relieved and hugged Sherlock who uncomfortably squirmed before hugging back. The Doctor smiled and cheerfully said, "You know, why _don't_ we go back and get some pies for dinner?"

"Do you really think that's appropriate?" Mycroft wearily asked.

"I think that it's a good idea," River spoke up.

"So do I," Sherlock declared.

"Yeah," Mycroft finally agreed, "I could go for another piece of that banana-caramel swirl."

"The apple one was the best," Sherlock said, now smiling, "What about you, Jack?"

Jack grinned, "Personally, I could go for the waitress who was serving us yesterday."

After a wonderful night of pies, which ended with the others having to drag Jack away from a group of giggling waiters and waitresses, the Doctor gently tucked Sherlock in and once again asked, "Are you alright?"

"I think so," Sherlock meekly said, "Thanks, Doctor."

The Doctor nodded and said goodnight to him and Mycroft. When he was gone, his brother anxiously said, "I'm really sorry, Sherlock."

Sherlock accepted his apology once more but thoughtfully said, "Do you know what the best part about talking to River was?"

"What?"

"She talked to me like I was an adult," Sherlock mused.

Mycroft looked hurt and pointed out, "The Doctor and I don't talk to you like you're a child. Or at least, we try not to…"

"But he still tells you more than he tells me," Sherlock argued, "You get to read about all of his previous adventures. He'll answer all of your questions and you'll talk about his past companions and Daleks and Cybermen and Oods and dozens of other creatures! But whenever I try to find out more information, you both imply that I'm too young to understand."

"You're not seriously accusing the Doctor of favoritism?"

"No," Sherlock admitted with a sigh, "It's just…I may be seven, but I'm not naïve. You don't have to keep protecting me."

Mycroft frowned and remarked, "Sherlock Holmes, your age has nothing to do with me wanting to protect you. Guess what? When you're _my_ age and I'm twenty-one, I'm still going to protect you. Do you know why?"

"Why?" Sherlock huffed.

"Because four years ago, I made a promise," Mycroft quietly said, "I made the promise that I was always going to protect you and I'm not about to break that promise."

Sherlock looked up at this and caught Mycroft's eye. Mycroft gave him a comforting smile and Sherlock slowly returned it.

Mycroft hesitated before crossing the room and sitting on the end of his brother's bed.

"Sherlock," he slowly said, "I'm going to tell you a story."

Sherlock immediately sat up, his eyes shining with enthusiasm as he cried, "Really?"

"Yes."

"What's it about?"

"It's about a remarkable woman," Mycroft admitted.

"Who is it?"

"Her name was Rose. Rose Tyler."

Author's Note: Yep, I need to talk about this one. I really wanted a River-Sherlock conversation because I think that the two would have a bit in common. I think that River would understand Sherlock and his way of expressing emotions and thinking. Mycroft would be the next in line followed by the Doctor and Jack. The last two might not completely understand why Sherlock is the way he is, but they still would want to give Sherlock a huge hug and assure him that everything is going to be alright. But I imagine that Sherlock and River would have a (albeit somewhat strange) connection. Because they have both been called sociopaths, even though they both have traits that say otherwise. (And I know that it is possible for a sociopath to cry but go with me on this one.) Let me put it simply: A sociopath wouldn't have taken the fall for his friend, landlady, and an Inspector of the New Scotland Yard. And River may show sociopathic tendencies at times, but she _did_ fall in love with the Doctor. And so I wanted the two to have a conversation about it. I wanted River to tell Sherlock that there is nothing wrong with him and I wanted that message to stay with Sherlock for a while. Perhaps there would come a day when, I don't know Sherlock may see a giant-hound that doesn't exist, and he thinks back to what River said. There is _nothing_ wrong with him. So what better way to explore the method of Sherlock's emotions/thoughts than with a funeral? I wanted Mycroft to be the one to finally snap something and immediately regret it. I can imagine a part during Mrs. Holmes' funeral where a three-year-old Sherlock doesn't understand and Mr. Holmes yells at him for it. So as soon as Mycroft ridicules his brother, he immediately regrets it. But Sherlock has already put up that wall. A wall that Mycroft can't break down; a wall that not even the Doctor can break down. So it's up to River, who understands how to break it.

As far as the highly-functioning sociopath line goes:

In my headcanon, Anderson cruelly says this to Sherlock. River then dismisses this idea and gets Sherlock to realize just how wrong it is. Jump forward about thirty years and I imagine that Sherlock says it to Anderson almost sardonically. Sort of like, "Hang on. I thought that I was a highly-functioning _sociopath_. Not a psychopath. Isn't that what you said, Anderson? I'm a highly-functioning sociopath. Do your research."

Long story short, I put _a lot_ of thought into my chapters.


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Note: Thank you for fifty reviews and several messages on tumblr! One question caught my eye. GUEST left a review asking, "…but the doctors a time lord rright? He can take Mycroft and Sherlock back to see their mom? Right? Please? Begs?"

Answer: Yes. Kind of. The Doctor is going to take Mycroft back to see their mother but it's not going to be what you want. In fact, it was one of the first ideas that I had for the story and it is one of the hardest things that I have ever had to write. Not just in this story but in the eight years that I have written fanfiction. I'm not saying anything else but be prepared.

But that's a few chapters away. You still have time to grab your shock-blanket.

Chapter Sixteen

It was never a good sign when you walked into the room and saw that your brother was holding a chainsaw and charging towards someone.

"Hey, hey!" Mycroft cried, racing over, "Stop."

Sherlock paused and looked slightly annoyed as he asked, "What?"

"What are you doing?" Mycroft asked.

"I'm trying to decapitate Jack," Sherlock said, as if it was obvious.

Mycroft glanced from his brother to Jack, who was standing nearby, looking excited. He then glanced over at River, who was calmly watching on, and slowly said, "Okay…well…why?"

"To see what would happen," Sherlock remarked.

"Right," Mycroft weakly said, "Where did you get a chainsaw?"

"The cupboard," Sherlock explained.

"Alright," Mycroft slowly took the chainsaw away and said, "New Rule: No trying to decapitate Jack."

He broke off and thoughtfully asked, "What would happen?"

"I dunno," Jack said, "And now we never will."

Mycroft set the chainsaw back into the cupboard, in between the flamethrower and grenade-launcher. He then sat down and appreciatively smiled as the Tardis prepared a cup of tea. He shakily accepted.

"Alright, Sherlock," River pleasantly said, "_What_ did I have for breakfast?"

Sherlock snorted and said, "That's not really my…"

"There's no need to…" Mycroft added at the same time.

"I insist," River cheerfully said.

"You do?" Sherlock excitedly asked.

"Oh no," Mycroft muttered, rubbed his brow.

Sherlock glanced at her, his eyes sharp and alert. He brought the tips of his fingers together but was unaware of doing so.

After several seconds, he smoothly said, "Bread crumbs the collar of your shirt. The faint smell of strawberries. The tiniest bit of butter stuck to the left corner of your lip. Toast with jam. And oatmeal. Only you had to make that yourself. There's a piece of dry flake beneath your fingernail. The Tardis didn't make it for you? How rude. Did you ask politely? Hmm…at any rate, the real question isn't what you had for breakfast but rather why you are spending a good portion of your life in a prison cell."

River's jaw dropped and she asked, "How did you know that?"

"Sherlock, now you're just showing off," Mycroft muttered.

Sherlock sighed and said, "The scraping around your wrist indicates handcuffs. Not to mention the fact that at night, Jack goes into his spare room whereas you use your vortex manipulator to leave. There are several possibilities, I won't bore you with them, but the obvious one is that you're a convict who is serving a significant amount of your time in prison but frequently escapes to adventure with the Doctor."

"Obviously," River sardonically said.

"Am I wrong?" Sherlock challenged.

She didn't deny it and instead smirked as he continued, "You then return so that none of the guards will get too suspicious. Now there's the matter of your journal. Don't worry; I didn't read it. It's obvious by how you're always saying 'spoilers' that the vortex manipulator doesn't always bring you to the Doctor in a straight timeline. Meaning that something you did two years ago might not happen to him for another five years. So you record your adventures in the journal and figure out where you are in each other's timelines. I'm sorry. I'm going off on a tangent. As I have previously stated, the real question is why you were in prison. The Doctor and Jack don't seem to have any problem and you seem harmless. Now. But I wonder if you weren't in a past regeneration. You told me that one the other day. Previous regenerations and tons of years to deal with the fact that you were a psychopath…"

He broke off, staring off into space.

"Yeah, we've lost him," Mycroft said, sipping his tea.

"That…is…incredible," River slowly said, "Absolutely impressive. He's only seven?"

"Yep," Mycroft answered, "Unfortunately, what you think is impressive often gets him in trouble. That's why I don't do it."

"Can you?"

"Yes, of course," Mycroft humbly said, "I'm better than Sherlock. But I'm usually modest. And like I said, our peers aren't exactly as understanding."

"But it _is_ impressive," Jack laughed, "Mycroft, what did _I_ have for breakfast?"

"Waffles with whipped-cream and brown sugar," Mycroft mumbled.

River laughed and asked, "Is your brother alright?"

"Yes," Mycroft slowly said, "Err…he's basically so deep in thought that he's forgotten that he was talking to us. Just wait for it."

After ten minutes, Sherlock suddenly looked up and shouted, "You killed the Doctor!"

"Very good," River smiled, "But do you know how?"

Sherlock gave her an incredulous look, "No. Obviously, I wasn't there and I have no other information about what happened. I can't build bricks without clay. Did it work?"

She stared at him for a moment before saying, "Err…no."

"Right," Sherlock said, "Of course not. Good. Blimey, I have a headache. Jack, you had waffles for breakfast. With whipped cream."

"And brown sugar," Mycroft added, raising his mug of tea.

"And brown sugar," Sherlock agreed, resting his head down on the table, "Ahhh…is it time for bed?"

"No," Mycroft chuckled, "Great power comes with great pain, Sherlock."

Sherlock rubbed his temple as the Doctor strolled in, whistling a tune. He paused at the sight of River and Jack and softly mused, "Why haven't I dropped you two off somewhere yet?"

They laughed but realized that it was a valid point. It had been a week since the funeral-incident and they were still happily travelling with him, even if River came back and forth.

Sherlock merely groaned and the Doctor looked horrified, "What happened?"

"Migraine," Sherlock dramatically moaned.

River calmly said, "I think that I broke him."

The Doctor put a sympathetic hand on Sherlock's shoulder and rummaged through his pockets, pulling out things and throwing them to the others to hold. He eventually pulled out a small vial filled with purple liquid. Sherlock took it and swallowed the liquid, much to Mycroft's horror. He immediately felt better before turning and saying, "Now, let's do Jack…"

"No," Mycroft laughed, "No analyzing two people in one hour. Your bloody head is bound to explode."

Sherlock sighed but perked up as Jack exclaimed, "I know where we can go! Why don't we do one of those Mystery Train Rides in the countryside of England? Sherlock and Mycroft would love it. They have a dinner, then a dance, and then the mystery begins and we have to try and solve it!"

The brothers eyes lit up with excitement and the Doctor laughed, "Sure, why not?"

He hit the proper button and the Tardis rocked. The Doctor, Mycroft, Sherlock, and River held on and amusedly watched as Jack went toppling into another room. He emerged, sopping wet, mumbling about how he had landed in the swimming pool.

The Doctor had parked the Tardis right on the train. The countryside whirled by as the five stepped out. Stars twinkled in the inky sky.

"I've never actually been on a train," Sherlock said, slightly impressed.

A conductor came over and asked, "Excuse me? Where are your tickets?"

"Right here," the Doctor smoothly said, pulling out his Psychic Paper.

The conductor nodded and dazedly said, "Very well. Sorry about that, Your Highness. I didn't see you come on. We're just about to begin."

"After you, Your Highness," Mycroft joked as they took their seats.

The train picked up speed and Mycroft glanced out the countryside. He only jumped when Jack whispered, "Don't look now, Mycroft, but that girl's been staring at you since we first left the Tardis."

Mycroft turned and Jack whispered, "I said don't look!"

Sure enough, a teenager was eyeing him from the other side of the cart. Upon meeting his gaze, she gave him a small smile and looked away.

"Maybe you can try for Date # 2," River teased.

"No, I…" Mycroft broke off and asked, "Hang on. How do you know about that!?"

River merely smirked and the Doctor gave him a guilty look.

"Why don't you just announce it to the whole universe?" Mycroft suggested.

The Doctor laughed but it was short-lived as Mycroft glanced back over at the girl.

"Don't even think about it," the Doctor warned.

River glanced at him and lifted a complimentary glass of wine, "Here's to travelling with the…oh! Sorry, Sweetie."

She had accidentally spilled a good amount of the wine onto his shirt and bowtie.

The Doctor assured her that it was fine but still got up and headed towards the bathroom.

"Might want to leave your Sonic behind," River offered, "You don't want to flush it again."

The Doctor's cheeks reddened and he muttered something about it only happening once, but he handed it to her nonetheless.

As soon as River heard the lock of the door, she clicked her own Sonic and cheerfully said, "There! That should buy you some time."

Mycroft stared at her for a moment, both impressed and appreciative, "Thanks!"

"Don't screw it up," Jack offered.

"Thanks," Mycroft sarcastically repeated and he nervously set off.

"H…hi," he stammered upon reaching her table.

"Hello."

He glanced back at Jack, who gave him the thumbs-up, and decided to throw caution into the wind by saying, "Hello. Mycroft Holmes."

The girl smiled, "I'm Vanessa. Vanessa Fletcher. Are you new in town?"

"N…no," Mycroft replied, "We're just visiting."

"Oh, that figures," she said, "Have you done this before?"

"What? Talk to a girl?"

"Well," Vanessa mused, "I meant have you ever ridden on the Mystery Train Tour but either one works."

"Err…honestly the answer to both is no," Mycroft laughed.

Vanessa smiled and shifted over so that he could sit, "Well, there's a first time for everything."

Jack, River, and Sherlock amusedly looked on.

"Not bad," Jack said.

"Aw," Sherlock said in a falsely-cheery tone, "Mycroft has a girlfriend."

"_MYCROFT HAS A GIRLFRIEND?_"

Without warning, the door to the bathroom burst open and the Doctor flew out.

River glanced down at the Sonic and back up before realizing that the door was technically still locked, just off of its hinges.

"That's impressive," Sherlock agreed with River's unsaid statement.

"They seem to be hitting it off," Jack said, pointing.

The Doctor stared at Vanessa's booth, horrified, before barking, "Jack! I need your vortex manipulator!"

Jack handed it over, puzzled, and the Doctor hit the button. He immediately appeared next to Mycroft who jumped and cried, "Doctor? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

The Doctor hit the button again and appeared next to Vanessa. He then reappeared next to their original booth and grabbed the Sonic from River before appearing next to Vanessa once more and actually scanning her.

"Doctor, are you alright?" Mycroft asked.

"How is he doing that?" Vanessa whispered.

The Doctor hit the button again and was suddenly clinging onto the chandelier hanging above them.

"What…?"

He hit the button again and was gone.

"What just happened?" Vanessa asked.

"I have no idea," Mycroft said.

"How did he do that?"

"It's a…magic trick," Mycroft lamely said.

Vanessa raised an eyebrow and asked, "Like making blue police boxes magically appear in the room?"

"Something like that," Mycroft agreed.

Vanessa laughed before saying, "Oh my…"

"What's wrong?"

"Your friend…he's outside…"

"What?" Mycroft gaped, turning and seeing that she was right. The Doctor was peering into the window, clinging onto the outside of the train, "How…Doctor, get in here!"

The Doctor hit the button again and appeared next to River and Jack, who had leapt up and raced over.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" River anxiously asked.

"Don't do that!" Jack cried.

"What were you thinking?" Sherlock huffed.

"Doctor," Mycroft gasped, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," the Doctor said before glancing at Vanessa, "I have a few questions for you though."

"Shoot."

"What's your name?"

"Vanessa."

"Vanessa…?"

"Vanessa Marie Fletcher."

"Where do you live?"

"331 West Oak Street."

"Are you or have you ever been an alien parasite?"

Vanessa blinked at the question before saying, "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"So you're completely human?"

"Yes."

"Would you be willing to let me know if that changes?"

"I suppose so."

"Alright," the Doctor brightly said, "You're welcome to sit with us if you'd like."

"Really?" Vanessa asked, "Thanks!"

"Sure," the Doctor shrugged, "I'm the Doctor and this is my wife, River. You've already met Mycroft. This is his brother, Sherlock, and this is Jack. We can call it a double-date."

"Sounds good to me," River brightly said.

"It's a deal," Vanessa agreed and Mycroft felt a flush of excitement.

"Excuse me?" Jack spoke up, his arms crossed.

"What about us?" Sherlock added.

"Well, you can still sit with us," the Doctor laughed, "Nobody needs to feel left out!"

"Yes but as far as triple-dates go, Jack isn't really my type," Sherlock joked.

Jack pretended to look offended as he remarked, "I thought what we had was special!"

"Fine," River remarked, bending down to loop her arm through Sherlock's arm, "Then I will go with Sherlock and Jack can go with the Doctor!"

The Doctor paused a beat before saying, "Fair enough!"

"What just happened?" Mycroft asked.

"No idea," the Doctor admitted, "I think that we messed up somewhere."

"Mm," River agreed, "Let's switch dates."

"Alright," the Doctor easily said, "Come along, Sherlock!"

Sherlock laughed and sat across from him. River snorted and sat across from Jack, allowing Mycroft to sit across from Vanessa.

"No, this doesn't seem right," the Doctor joked, scratching his head.

"Let's switch dates again," Jack brightly said.

"Right," the Doctor said, "Let's see…River can have Mycroft. Sherlock can have Vanessa and I can have Jack."

"Nope, that's not going to work," Sherlock mused.

The Doctor thought about it for a moment before saying, "Jack can have Mycroft, I can have Sherlock, and River can have Vanessa?"

"We're getting there," River mused.

"We're intelligent. We can figure this out," Sherlock joked.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, which wasn't unnoticed by the other four. They looked slightly disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm and Mycroft softened and said, "How about…Doctor, you can have Vanessa, I can have Sherlock, and River can have Jack?"

"Or," Vanessa said with a smirk, "I can have Jack, River can have the Doctor, and you can have Sherlock."

"Or I could have Jack," Mycroft joked, "You could have Sherlock, and River could have the Doctor."

"I've got it," the Doctor cried, "What if I have Jack, Sherlock can have River, and you can have one another?"

Mycroft stared at him before saying, "Fair enough."

"Wait," Jack mumbled, "I'm confused. Who am I dating?"

"Who aren't you dating?" Mycroft joked.

Jack chuckled and muttered, "Good point."

The six laughed and talked for another hour. Mycroft couldn't believe his luck. Vanessa didn't seem to find it weird that the Doctor tried to convince her about the importance of bowties or that River fumbled with a strange looking blaster and shot the conductor's hat off. Vanessa thought that it was amazing when Sherlock was able to deduce that the conductor was having an affair. She laughed when Mycroft threw a dinner-roll at the Doctor who threw a chicken-breast in return. She even joined the others in laughing when Jack went up to a woman and smoothly said, "Hello! Captain Jack Harkness…"

The tables were pushed aside and the booths were adjusted to make room for a small dance-floor. Jack led his new date out, much to the Doctor's dismay.

"You've broken my two hearts," the Doctor pretended to sob.

"Come on, Sweetie," River flirted, leading him out onto the dance-floor by his bowtie.

"Great," Sherlock joked, "Now _I'm_ dateless."

"You can still dance," Vanessa encouraged.

"I don't dance," Sherlock muttered, monotonic.

"Come on, Sherlock," Mycroft laughed.

"I don't dance."

"Yeah, you do," the Doctor loudly said, coming over and dragging Sherlock to his feet.

The Doctor was a mess of arms and legs as he flailed and flopped around. Sherlock threw his head back and laughed, tapping his foot along to the beat. To Jack's dismay, his date disappeared. River laughed at the look on his face and the two linked elbows, dancing around in a circle. The Doctor chuckled from the floor; he had somehow gotten his ankle caught in his bowtie and was proceeding to untangle it while still trying to dance.

"Your family is really weird," Vanessa mused.

"Yeah," Mycroft agreed, holding out his hand. The two danced for all of one minute before they heard a blood-curdling scream.

"I didn't do it," Jack cried as he stared down at the woman he had flirted with. She was lying on the floor, covered in blood.

"The mystery's begun!" Vanessa excitedly said and they took their seats.

"Ooh, a mystery," the Doctor excitedly said, "A mystery on a train. A murder-mystery on a train. What could possibly go wrong?"

Five minutes later, he was being pushed from the train. Luckily, the driver had been nice enough to actually _stop_ the train. The Doctor skidded down the dirt slope, closely followed by a shouting Mycroft. The Doctor helped him up, just in time for the two to be knocked down by Jack and River. The four glanced back at the train and saw that Sherlock was still busy arguing with the conductor.

"Am I wrong?"

"Get off!"

"AM I WRONG?"

"No," the conductor cried, "You're right! You're absolutely right! However, some people would rather enjoy the entire mystery than have you spoil everything by solving it!"

Sherlock merely shrugged and said, "Well, that's boring."

He hopped from the train and the Doctor quickly caught him and gently set him down.

Finally, Vanessa angrily hopped off, calling the conductor a few choice-names.

"You didn't have to do that," Mycroft appreciatively said.

"That's alright," Vanessa assured him.

"Hey," the Doctor shouted, "What about my Tardis?"

"I've got it," River sighed. She hit the vortex manipulator and vanished. Seconds later, the blue box appeared next to them and she stepped out.

"Wow," Vanessa muttered, "That's some magic trick."

"Yes," Mycroft slowly said, "Well…would you like us take you home?"

Vanessa grinned and pointed, "Actually, that's my house right over there. Thanks for the fun date, Mycroft."

She stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek before saying goodbye to the others and walking home.

Mycroft realized that he had forgotten how to stand. His knees buckled and the Doctor caught him, laughing at the expression on his face. River also grinned and Jack offered, "Good on you, Mycroft."

"Mm?" Sherlock looked up and mumbled, "Oh yes, very good, brother dear. But we must prioritize. We know that it was the Colonel who killed the mistress but we don't have a motif…"


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

"I need glue," the Doctor demanded, "Stat."

Jack handed it over and the Doctor swiftly applied it to the wound.

"We're losing him," Jack pointed out.

"No…we're…not."

"Doctor, it's too late!" Mycroft cried.

"It can't be too late," Sherlock pressed, "Doctor, you have to save him."

"Don't worry, Sherlock," the Doctor sharply said, "I'm not going to let him die on me."

"You do realize that you're all talking about a stuffed bear," River called out.

The four glanced up and Sherlock muttered, "We wouldn't even need to be doing this if you hadn't shot it with a blaster."

"In my defence," River calmly said, putting her hands up, "I was aiming for Jack. I don't know why there was a stuffed bear on the console, in the first place."

"I carried it out with me," Sherlock muttered, his cheeks reddening.

The plan had been simple enough. The food on the train had been great for throwing at one another but not so much for eating. Mycroft and Sherlock had entered the console room for a midnight snack. Four brownies, two cups of milk, and a blaster later found the brothers, Jack, and the Doctor standing around the destroyed bear. Stuffing fell out at odd intervals. The bowtie was nothing more than strands of loose string.

"Aww," River said, sounding slightly touched, "You sleep with a stuffed bear?"

"Not anymore," Sherlock sourly pointed out, "Murderer."

River laughed and exclaimed, "Yes. I admit it. I murdered your stuffed bear. I'll start serving my sentence as soon as I'm done serving the one for murdering my husband."

Sherlock nearly cracked a smile but still anxiously glanced down at the bear. The Doctor was attempting to glue the head back onto the body.

"Doctor, this isn't working," Jack repeated.

"Yes…it…is…" the Doctor grunted, just as the bear's head fell back off, "…isn't."

He sighed and sorrowfully said, "Sorry, Sherlock."

"It's alright," Sherlock disappointedly mumbled.

The Doctor gently led him back to bed but Mycroft stayed behind. When the Doctor returned, he, Mycroft, and Jack shot reprimanding glances at River.

"What?" River asked, innocently.

"You butchered my brother's bear," Mycroft accused.

"I'll buy him a new one," River said, shrugging it off.

"It wasn't the bear that was special," Mycroft quietly pointed out, "Sherlock will never admit it, but he loved the bear because it was a souvenir from the day that we officially became the Doctor's companions."

"Yes," River agreed, "Along with hundreds of other toys."

"They're special," Mycroft agreed, "But not the same."

"Alright," River sighed, "I'll make it up to him."

"Thanks," Mycroft mumbled, "And Doctor, I was wondering if you were planning anything for tomorrow…?"

The Doctor looked confused and asked, "Why would I be planning something?"

"It's Sherlock's birthday," Mycroft explained, slightly hurt that the Doctor didn't remember, "Birthdays have never been that fun at our house. Father basically just gave us money and acted like it was a normal day."

The Doctor made a strange growling noise.

"And so I was wondering if we could do something?" Mycroft asked, "I already got him a present but it would mean a lot to him if…"

"Sure," the Doctor absentmindedly said, "I'll try to think of something."

"Alright," Mycroft sighed, frowning at his indifferent tone, "Well…good night."

"Night, Mycroft," Jack offered.

"Don't let the alien parasites bite," River cheerfully added.

Mycroft tried to chuckle but couldn't pass it off. He trudged to the bedroom and glanced over at Sherlock. His brother was sound asleep, squeezing onto his spare pillow.

Mycroft then glanced at the clock.

12:01.

"Happy Birthday, Sherlock," Mycroft gently said.

He settled back, vowing to make Sherlock's birthday special. Even if he was working alone. Mycroft never thought that the Doctor could disappoint him. But as Vanessa had said earlier, there was a first time for everything.

Mycroft had just gotten to sleep when the door opened. The Doctor crept in before promptly tripping over a toy. He caught himself before checking on Sherlock. The Doctor tucked the loose blanket around the sleeping boy and ruffled his curls. He then snuck over to Mycroft's bed and smiled upon realizing that Mycroft was awake.

"What are you doing?" Mycroft yawned.

"Checking on the two of you."

"Why?"

The Doctor shrugged and explained, "It's 3:00."

As if this was normal. As if he had done this dozens of times.

Mycroft smiled and the Doctor returned it before kindly saying goodnight and leaving.

Mycroft realized that it didn't matter if Sherlock had a large party or presents. Simply being on the Tardis with Jack, River, and the Doctor would be good enough.

() () ()

"SHERLOCK, MYCROFT!"

Mycroft's eyes flew open at the Doctor's frantic shout.

"What's going on?" Sherlock cried.

"I dunno," Mycroft mumbled.

The last thing he needed was for the Doctor to be in trouble on Sherlock's birthday.

The two raced out into the console room.

Three shouts pierced the air.

"SURPRISE!"

"Blimey!" Sherlock cried.

"Bloody hell!" Mycroft spluttered.

"Mycroft, language," the Doctor gently said. Fortunately, he didn't seem that angry. He was beaming alongside Jack and River. The console was nearly unrecognizable behind the amount of balloons. A large cake sat on the table, next to several presents.

"Wow," Sherlock cried, unable to hide his excitement, "Thanks!"

"You knew," Mycroft whispered, "You knew all along."

"Of course I knew," the Doctor whispered back, "I've been planning this for weeks!"

"This means a lot," Mycroft admitted, even though it wasn't his birthday or his party.

"Well," the Doctor thoughtfully said, "It's not like it's just another day. It's special."

The five ate cake for breakfast and Sherlock eagerly asked, "Can I open my presents?"

"Sherlock," Mycroft reprimanded, "Manners."

Sherlock sighed and asked, "Can I _please_ open my presents?"

"Sure," the Doctor laughed, "Here! This one's from Mycroft."

"It's not much," Mycroft mumbled as Sherlock opened it.

It was a sliding magnifier that zoomed up to 50x!

"Thanks, Mycroft!" Sherlock excitedly said. He even managed to hug his brother, albeit quickly and awkwardly.

"Oh, it was nothing," Mycroft modestly said.

Sherlock opened the present from Jack. It was his own vortex-manipulator.

"Wicked," Sherlock cried, "Can I try it?"

"No, no!" Jack quickly said, "You need training. That is, unless you want to end up tumbling around in a dark pocket of space?"

Sherlock looked thoughtful and the Doctor and Mycroft both flatly said, "No."

"Here you go," River said, handing over her present, "I was going to get you your own blaster but I just couldn't do that to Mycroft."

Sherlock accepted it, slightly curious. His jaw then dropped as he unwrapped his stuffed bear. He was speechless for a moment before softly saying, "Thanks, River."

"I'm not hugging you," River teased.

"Thank goodness for that," Sherlock sincerely said, "Hugging one person was enough."

The Doctor grinned as he handed Sherlock a small box. It was Sherlock's very own bowtie. The small boy laughed and the Doctor helped him put it on.

"Hello," Sherlock said, trying to imitate him, "I'm the Doctor. Bowties are cool."

The Doctor frowned and muttered, "I don't sound like that."

"Yeah, you do," River, Jack, and Mycroft chorused.

The Doctor stuck his tongue out before admitting, "Well, they _are_ cool."

He straightened up and enthusiastically cried, "So, Sherlock! Today is your big day; a very special day! You get to choose where we go!"

Sherlock thought about it for a moment before asking, "Can we go to the London's Natural History Museum?"

"Sure," the Doctor exclaimed, "I'll take us forward twenty years. They've added a new wing…"

He hit a few buttons before suddenly shouting, "Wait…"

The Tardis violently shook and tumbled before coming to a crashing halt. The five were thrown off of their feet. The Doctor grabbed Sherlock and Mycroft. River managed to hold onto the console and Jack went tumbling back into the swimming pool room. He emerged, sopping wet and grumbling, "No, no. Don't worry about grabbing me."

"Sorry," the Doctor said with a sheepish grin.

"Doctor, what did you do?" River cried.

"I put in 20,000 years," the Doctor guiltily admitted, "Don't worry. I can fix it."

"Whoa," Sherlock cried, wrenching the door open.

"Sherlock, be careful," Mycroft warned before realizing what Sherlock was looking at.

The Tardis was in the ruins of the museum. Dust rained from the ceiling and debris was scattered down the corridors. Entire walls were missing and pillars were crumbled. Moss climbed up cracked exhibits and entire trees were growing. The air was thick and had an unsettling feeling.

"Can we explore it?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't see why not," the Doctor hesitantly said.

"This is cooler than the actual museum," Sherlock whispered as they exited.

"What do you think happened?" Jack wondered, carefully glancing at a broken exhibit of the solar system.

"20,000 years of wear and tear," the Doctor thoughtfully said.

"This is creepy," Mycroft whispered.

"This is cool," Sherlock corrected.

River blew dust from an exhibit and watched it completely crumble.

"Ssh," the Doctor suddenly said, "Do you hear that?"

"We can't all have Time Lord hearing," Jack teased before seeing that he meant business.

"Something's in the corridor ahead," the Doctor quietly said, stepping in front of the other four, "It almost sounds like…oh no."

"WHHHOO ARRREE YYOOUU?"

"Damn," River hissed, "Daleks."

"No way," Sherlock excitedly said.

Mycroft swallowed but still stared at the Dalek in wonder. He had read about them numerous times and was both excited and nervous. The excitement quickly left as he glanced at the Doctor. His eyes shone with hate and fury.

"M…maybe it's a friendly Dalek?" Mycroft suggested.

"EEXXXXTTTEERRRMMMIINNNAATTTEEE!"

"Nope," the Doctor quickly cried, "RUN!"

They somehow ended up splitting up.

The Doctor raced forward and leapt right over the Dalek, narrowly avoiding a beam. Jack and Sherlock raced down the left corridor. River and Mycroft ran down the right corridor.

Mycroft pressed himself against the wall and cried, "Look! Now you actually have a good reason to randomly shoot your blasters."

"You're _not_ still mad at me?" River exasperatedly asked.

"You destroyed my brother's bear."

"Yes," River remarked, "So you've said. I also fixed his bear."

Mycroft still frowned but they were soon distracted by the Daleks as they came towards them. River pulled out her blaster and repeatedly shot them. The two ran down the corridor and realized that Daleks were coming out from different nooks and doorways.

River and Mycroft anxiously spun around, the former snapping, "Keep going. I'll hold them off."

"What?" Mycroft spluttered, "River…"

"Just go."

"River, I can't just…"

"GO!"

She gave him a wide-eyed and stern look and he hesitated before running on. He heard the sounds of the blaster and ripping metal. Mycroft ducked into the remains of a bathroom to catch his breath. He tried to recall everything that he knew about the Daleks.

They had gunsticks. That shot lethal beams. Mycroft glanced up and saw a dusty and cracked mirror on the wall. It was better than nothing. He ripped it off and anxiously held it in front of him as he crept on.

Unfortunately, if one was being attacked by Daleks, the least opportune place to do so might be the ruins of a museum. Shadows bounced on the piles of rock and debris. Water dripped and the pipes creaked.

Mycroft's corridor finally yielded with the main corridor. The Doctor was ahead, wearily glancing around. He didn't see the Dalek that was creeping up behind him.

Mycroft ran forward, coming in between the two and screaming, "Doctor, look out!"

A flash of light briefly dissolved the shadows. Mycroft felt a shooting pain hit his stomach. He didn't quite understand but he found himself collapsing.

"MYCROFT!"

The Doctor was immediately at his side. The Dalek raised its gunstick once again and the Doctor quickly held up the mirror. The beam reflected off of it and hit the Dalek. The Doctor hardly paid attention to the anguished sound of ripping metal or the small explosion. He knelt down next to Mycroft, who was slowly slipping away.

"Mycroft," the Doctor said, cupping his companion's face, "Mycroft, can you hear me?"

Mycroft tried to speak but it came out as a groan.

"Alright," the Doctor continued, "It's alright. It's going to be alright, Mycroft. Let's just get you back to the Tardis."

Mycroft nodded, and attempted to stand up. As soon as he moved, however, he let out an anguished cry of pain and crumpled against the Doctor.

"Sorry," Mycroft gasped.

"Don't be," the Doctor quickly said, "Don't be sorry. You were brilliant. You were absolutely brilliant. Now, come along. We'll go back to the Tardis and we can…"

"I was supposed to protect him," Mycroft grunted, "She told me to protect Sherlock. I promised her…that…I wouldn't let anything happen to him…"

The Doctor's eyes sparkled for a moment but he hastily said, "Okay Mycroft, shut up for a minute. Just shut up. I'm trying to save you."

The Doctor frantically thought for a second and when he looked back down he was horrified to see that Mycroft's eyes were closed.

"You know what?" the Doctor anxiously cried, "On second thought, keep talking! Come on, Mycroft! Talk to me; say something!"

"Mycroft?"

Sherlock and Jack were coming up the corridor. Jack took one look at the Doctor, realized the situation, and softly whispered, "No."

"Jack, what's he doing?" Sherlock anxiously asked, "Why's Mycroft on the ground?"

He glanced up at Jack for answers and was shocked to see that Jack was pale and his lips were thin. Sherlock's heart immediately sank as he looked back to his brother. Despite what many people would believe, Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant child. He was able to deduce any situation, even if he didn't want to.

"NO!" Sherlock screamed, running to his brother, "Mycroft!"

He abandoned all reason and threw himself onto his brother's body. Mycroft's chest still rose and fell but he wasn't answering Sherlock.

Why wasn't he answering? This wasn't funny. This was a nasty trick. Sherlock anxiously shook Mycroft and yelled his name. It was a horrible, nasty, trick.

It took both the Doctor and Jack to pry him away.

"Save him!" Sherlock pleaded, "Doctor, please! You have to save him!"

The Doctor hesitated for a minute before closing his eyes and saying, "Sherlock, I need you to step back."

"Doctor," Jack slowly said, "What are you doing?"

The Doctor opened his eyes and Jack and Sherlock both saw a look of cold determination. Jack groaned but grabbed Sherlock's hand and pulled him away. Sherlock put up a good fight but Jack was much stronger. He gently but firmly put his arm around Sherlock's stomach, restraining him from going back to his brother. The Doctor turned back to Mycroft and put his hand on the still boy's chest. A golden light swirled around them, causing Sherlock to stop fighting and stare in wonder.

"What's going on?" River cried, racing up to join them.

"Mycroft…" Sherlock managed.

River's eyes widened and she groaned, "Oh no. Wait…"

She stared at the Doctor and slowly asked, "What is he doing?"

Jack used one arm to hold Sherlock back and the other to squeeze River's arm as he quietly said, "He's saving Mycroft."

River nodded but still looked worried. Jack looked anxious, relieved, and upset. Sherlock looked away and only turned back when he heard a familiar voice whisper, "Sherlock?"

Mycroft was slowly standing up. He was immediately knocked back as his brother literally leapt onto him. Mycroft laughed and returned the tight hug before glancing up as he realized that Jack and River weren't there to greet him from near-death. Instead, they were worriedly crouching next to the Doctor, who was kneeling on all fours.

"Jack?" Mycroft slowly asked, "River, is he alright?"

Mycroft slowly stood up but didn't let go of Sherlock.

"What's going on?" Sherlock asked, frightened, "He's okay, isn't he?"

Jack gave them a sad smile and the two stood up just as the Doctor collapsed.

"Doctor!"

Mycroft's scream echoed through the entire neighborhood. Sherlock leapt from his arms and attempted to run to the Time Lord. Jack quickly pulled the two boys away.

"Stop," Jack grunted, "Boys, stop! It's not…stop! You can't do anything!"

"Help him!" Mycroft shrieked, "You have to help him!"

"It's too late for that. Boys, I'm so sorry."

Sherlock dissolved into tears. Tears blurred Mycroft's own vision but River crouched down and gently said, "Hey, it's alright. Don't worry. He'll be alright."

"I tried to save him," Mycroft whispered, "And he still ended up…it's my fault…"

"Mycroft," River quietly said, "He can regenerate. You can't."

"He'll come back," Jack agreed, "The Doctor always comes back."

Mycroft swallowed and managed to nod. Sherlock still looked crestfallen and Jack reached out and hugged him.

"It's okay," Jack quietly said, "He'll come back. The Doctor always comes back."

A glowing light was spreading around the Doctor's body. Sherlock silently noted that it was the same glowing light as before. Sherlock, Mycroft, River, and Jack pensively watched as it completely engulfed the Doctor. They shielded their eyes and felt a huge surge of power hit them. Jack managed to catch them before they flew back into the wall. When the four looked up, they saw that the Doctor was still lying on the ground. He didn't look any different.

"What?" Jack cried, his bravado crashing, "That's it? That can't be it. Doctor!"

The four raced over and knelt down next to the Time Lord. All of a sudden, his eyes flew open. Sherlock and Mycroft leapt back with a terrified cry. The Doctor chuckled and weakly sat up before apologizing, "Sorry about that."

River looked horrified as she cried, "You used your regeneration energy to _heal_ yourself?"

"I wasn't completely dead," the Doctor replied, looking winded, "Just exhausted from helping Mycroft."

"You idiot," River said, though her anger melted into relief.

"I know," the Doctor panted, "It's alright. I'm alright."

He glanced up and suddenly beamed, "Mycroft! You're looking pretty good for someone who just had a run in with a Dalek gunstick!"

"Yes, how did the Dalek get you?" Sherlock curiously asked.

"I'll tell you how," the Doctor excitedly cried, leaping up, "Sherlock, your brother is a hero! He leapt in front of the Dalek to save me. I owe him my life."

"I owe you mine," Mycroft praised, "Only did you tell me to shut up when I was dying?"

The Doctor's smile froze and he meagerly said, "No."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and the Doctor mumbled, "Stop living in the past, Mycroft!"

Mycroft merely grinned and rolled his eyes.

"When I get my hands on those Daleks," River growled.

The Doctor stood up and leaned against Jack for support and wheezed, "Actually, I don't think that we should do anything."

River stared at him and sharply asked, "Are you sure that part of your mind didn't regenerate?"

"I'm serious," the Doctor quietly said, "They're not doing anything wrong."

"They nearly killed Mycroft," Sherlock pointed out.

"Because we invaded their home," the Doctor explained.

"Home?" Jack scoffed.

The Doctor nodded and said, "They're using this building as their home. London is basically gone. It's nothing more than ruins. They're not harming anyone. They're not trying to take over the world. They're just…here. What could come from fighting them?"

"I thought that we didn't run away from a fight," Sherlock muttered.

"We're not running away," the Doctor slowly said, "We're choosing our battles."

Sherlock nodded and the five quickly hurried back to the Tardis. Jack supported the Doctor and River and Sherlock supported Mycroft. Once inside, the Doctor and Mycroft both collapsed onto the couch, the former sleepily saying, "Sherlock, push a button. Any button. No, not that button! Yep, that button. That's good."

River went over to help navigate.

Mycroft's entire body pulsed with pain. He glanced over to see how the Doctor was doing and was surprised to see that he looked upset.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked, also seeing the look.

"I just feel bad," the Doctor admitted, "I wanted you to have fun on your birthday."

"Are you joking?" Sherlock cried, his eyes wild with adventure, "You threw me a party, I had cake for breakfast and presents, I got to explore the ruins of a museum, I got to see a Dalek, I got to watch my brother be a hero…"

"I'm not a hero," Mycroft modestly interjected.

Sherlock loudly continued, "This is the least boring birthday that I've ever had!"

He then frowned as he saw how sore and tired the Doctor and Mycroft were.

"Hey," Jack quickly said , "Your birthday isn't over yet. Why don't we play a game?"

"Like what?" Sherlock eagerly asked.

"Hide, Seek, and Blast!" River suggested.

The Doctor and Mycroft wearily but amusedly watched as the three raced around, hiding and blasting one another. Jack ended up collapsing in pain, clutching between his legs, courtesy of a well-aimed shot from River. She then tried to blast around Sherlock's feet. Sherlock bounced out of the way, sticking out his tongue. He then tripped over his stuffed bear, falling and slamming his elbow onto the console. Mycroft went to stand up but River reached him first. She pulled Sherlock to his feet and handed him the bear.

"I was wrong," Mycroft whispered.

"I never thought that I'd hear a Holmes say that," the Doctor admitted, "About what?"

"River," Mycroft softly continued, "I was shocked when I read _The Forest of the Dead _and you said that she was going to end up taking care of the children. But…she's going to be a good mother."

The Doctor grinned as the two watched as River chased after Sherlock, attempting to blast him.

"She's going to be an excellent mother," the Doctor sincerely agreed.

"Doctor, thanks," Mycroft added, "Thanks for this."

The Doctor laughed and said, "For what? For giving Sherlock a birthday?"

Mycroft sheepishly nodded and the Doctor calmly said, "Mycroft, you never have to thank me."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Sherlock was in considerable pain. His head throbbed, his stomach was an anxious knot, and his feet ached from tirelessly pacing the console room. His eye twitched with frustration and he was drumming his fingers against his side.

"Sherlock," Mycroft repeated, for the umpteenth time, "It's time for bed."

"I'm not tired," Sherlock mumbled, "Not tired at all."

The Doctor laughed and gently said, "Come on, Sherlock. It's time to give it up."

"Not yet," Sherlock pressed, "I've got this. I can get this. I need to get this."

"Blimey, I wish that River was here," Mycroft exasperatedly mumbled, "She would be able to snap him out of it."

River had left several days ago. Jack was due to leave tonight; his vacation time was up.

"But you have a vortex manipulator," Sherlock had argued, "Why don't you just go back the day after you left?"

"They read the miles that I put on it," Jack had sadly explained, "Sorry, guys."

He had then intended to cheer Sherlock up by telling him a riddle.

An hour later and Sherlock was still pacing the console room, trying to figure it out.

"Sherlock," Jack laughed, "Do you want me to just tell you the answer?"

"No!" Sherlock cried, stomping his foot.

He then whirled around, as though expecting the answer to leap from the walls.

"Watch this," Mycroft whispered before loudly saying, "Honestly, Sherlock! You haven't figured it out by now?"

Jack stifled a laugh at the murderous look on Sherlock's face. The Doctor's mouth twitched but he still reprimanded, "Mycroft."

"It's quite transparent," Mycroft continued, "I figured it out almost immediately."

Sherlock's face was red and he shook with anger.

Jack grinned and said, "The answer is so simple, Sherlock."

Smoke was practically coming out of his ears.

"Alright you two," the Doctor laughed, "Cut it out."

"A watermelon," Jack burst out, "That's the answer."

Sherlock gave an agitated cry, as though Jack had let out a string of curses. He buried his face in his hands and mumbled, "Of course…of _course_ it was a watermelon."

Jack laughed and said, "I'm really going to miss you, Sherlock. You too, Mycroft."

"Oh, thanks," the Doctor sarcastically said.

Jack laughed and hugged the grinning Time Lord.

"Do you really have to go?" Sherlock whined.

"Hey," Jack said with a grin, "I'll be around."

The Doctor, Mycroft, and Sherlock said goodbye and Jack hit his vortex manipulator.

Sherlock gave a huge yawn and the Doctor declared that it was time for bed.

"Did you think that it was a watermelon?" Sherlock muttered.

"No," Mycroft said, surprising him, "I thought that the obvious choice was a flamingo."

Sherlock looked puzzled and Mycroft continued, "It makes more sense. Think about it."

"Does it?" Sherlock asked, his mind once again racing.

He walked off to the bedroom, muttering the possibilities As soon as he was out of earshot, the Doctor whispered, "But the answer really was a watermelon."

"Of course it was," Mycroft murmured with a smirk, "But now he'll spend hours going over every single possibility."

The Doctor laughed and shook his head.

"I'd reprimand you for messing with your brother," the Doctor teased, "Then again; I'm not the one who has to share a room with him."

Sure enough, Mycroft could hear his brother mumbling all through the night. Early in the morning, Sherlock leapt onto Mycroft's bed and quickly gushed, "I've managed to form five different ways to support the theory that the answer is the flamingo. Come on! Get up!"

Mycroft blinked and saw that the wall next to Sherlock's bed was covered with scraps of paper. Different colored strings strung the different pieces of paper together.

"Brilliant," Mycroft yawned, "It really was a watermelon."

Sherlock stared at him for a moment, quite emotionless. He then collected everything from the wall, promptly walked into the console room and past the Doctor, opened the door, and tossed his hours of work.

"AND STAY OUT!" Sherlock shouted, slamming the door.

"Morning, Sherlock," the Doctor calmly said.

"It really was a watermelon," Sherlock mumbled.

"Indeed," the Doctor agreed, "Tea?"

Sherlock accepted a cup, glaring at Mycroft as he entered.

"I'm sorry," Mycroft chuckled under his brother's fiery glare.

"Apology accepted," Sherlock muttered.

"Good," the Doctor laughed, "We have somewhere that we need to be!"

The brothers quickly changed and the Doctor excitedly hit the buttons.

"Remember when you were afraid of this noise?" Mycroft teased, as the Tardis rocked back and forth.

"Remember when you were afraid to travel with the Doctor?" Sherlock laughed.

"I wasn't afraid for my sake," Mycroft murmured as the box came to a halt.

The Doctor opened the door. They had landed in a grassy plain. It reminded Mycroft of the pictures that he had seen of the African plains.

"Welcome to Magugu," the Doctor cried, as if reading his mind, "This planet is one large safari. Unfortunately, the creatures are in trouble. I promised that I would come and help."

They walked out and tightly closed the Tardis door. Sherlock grinned as the yellow grass grabbed at his legs.

The three heard a roar in the distance and the Doctor quickly said, "Don't worry. We're completely sa…"

Before he could finish his sentence, a large animal crashed into him and the Doctor was quickly whisked away.

Mycroft and Sherlock stared after him, momentarily in shock.

"What?" Mycroft finally asked.

"What just happened?" Sherlock slowly asked.

They spun around as another creature approached. It looked like a combination of a cheetah and a bear. The brothers raced away. Mycroft grabbed Sherlock's arm to keep them from getting separated. They could hear the creature running behind them. They finally ducked behind a large boulder to catch their breath.

"Is it gone?" Sherlock whispered.

In a flash, the creature was standing before them.

"No," Mycroft whispered.

It stepped forward.

"W…wait," Sherlock cried, "You _could_ eat us. That's always an option."

"Or," Mycroft hastily spoke up, "You could _not_ eat us."

"Yes, that's an even better option," Sherlock agreed.

"Calm yourselves," the creature kindly growled, "You are friends with the Time Lord?"

"Yes," Mycroft slowly said, "My name is Mycroft and this is my brother, Sherlock."

The creature then bowed and said, "I am Ahadi."

"Is the Doctor…is he alright?" Mycroft weakly asked.

"Yes," Ahadi chuckled, "He was taken to the caves. I was supposed to take you, but you ended up running."

"Force of habit," Sherlock muttered.

Ahadi knelt down. Mycroft and Sherlock hesitated before climbing onto his back.

Ahadi shot foreword and Mycroft threw his arms around his neck. Sherlock squeezed his stomach as they zoomed across the lands. Ahadi eventually slowed as he came to a series of caves. The brothers smiled at what they saw inside the largest cave. Cubs were scrambling around the Doctor who grinned as he spotted the boys.

"No, don't worry about us," Mycroft sardonically said, "Glad that you're having such a wonderful time."

The Doctor laughed and cheerfully admitted, "I knew that you were in good hands. Or rather, good paws."

Sherlock giggled as a cub nipped at his shoelaces. An older cub bit the younger cub's ear and pulled him away.

"These are my children," Ahadi explained, "Kopa and Taka."

Kopa was the eldest and Taka was the youngest.

"Aww," Sherlock said, scratching one behind its ear, "They're adorable."

"_We're_ adorable?" Taka huffed, his fur prickling, "You don't even have fur."

"Oh, you talk too," Sherlock muttered, slightly surprised.

"Of course we talk," Taka laughed, "Frankly; I'm surprised that _you_ can talk."

"But you're…you're animals," Sherlock spluttered.

"And you are…?" Kopa slowly asked.

"Humans," Sherlock said, matter-of-factly.

"Hu…m…ans?" Taka repeated.

"Humans," Sherlock cried, "We're humans! From Earth!"

"And we're Kubumas," Taka remarked, "From Magugu."

"So?" Sherlock scoffed.

"So how does being a human make you superior?" Taka argued.

"Because I don't live in a cave!" Sherlock angrily retorted.

Taka growled and asked, "Where do you live?"

"In a house," Sherlock scoffed, "Where else?"

"What is the house made from?"

"Bricks," Sherlock remarked.

"Sherlock," Mycroft spoke up, realizing where the cub was going with this.

"So you live in a shelter that's made with shaped rocks?" Taka smugly summarized.

Sherlock opened his mouth to argue but couldn't think of a comeback. Mycroft laughed at the rarity and even the Doctor smiled.

Sherlock growled out in frustration and finally snapped, "On our planet, animals like you are used as research-specimens, pets, and zoo-attractions."

"Sherlock!"

"Mycroft!"

"And on our planet, animals like you are used as dinner," Taka growled.

"Taka."

"Kopa!"

"No," the Doctor laughed, "You four are _nothing_ alike."

Sherlock and Taka glowered and Mycroft and Kopa chuckled.

"Doctor," Ahadi sorrowfully said, "Are you sure that you can help us fight against the poachers?"

"Poachers?" Mycroft whispered.

"They are the reason that our tribe is nearly extinct," Kopa softly explained, "We used to inhabit most of this planet. The poachers have been killing off our tribe for years."

"Children, leave us," Ahadi growled, "You are too young to understand this."

"But Father…" Kopa argued.

"You may wait outside," Ahadi continued, "But do not go past the border."

"Mycroft, Sherlock," the Doctor gently said, "Why don't you keep them company?"

Sherlock groaned and the Doctor sternly added, "Look after them."

The brothers begrudgingly obeyed.

The four stomped outside, sitting in the yellow grass.

"This is boring," Sherlock and Taka simultaneously growled.

Kopa stretched out in the sun and softly purred, "Calm down, Taka."

"Father thinks that we're naïve," Taka angrily continued, "The poachers killed our mother! How could we not know that they exist?"

"Your mother's dead?" Sherlock abruptly asked, curiosity overtaking his manners.

"Sherlock," Mycroft hissed.

Sherlock didn't even bother to say his brother's name. For a moment, his eyes shone with sympathy as he murmured, "That's another thing that we have in common."

Taka lowered his gaze and growled, "Mother put up a good fight. But in the end…"

"Yeah," Sherlock sighed, "Ours too."

Mycroft was momentarily speechless at the upset look on his brother's face. He was even more shocked when Taka seemed to mirror the expression.

"Ever since then," Taka continued, "Father hasn't trusted us to leave the boundaries."

"Boundaries?" Sherlock asked.

Taka nodded towards a chain-link fence and growled, "Several rangers visited the planet a few years ago and put up the fence, forbidding the poachers to cross. Father has warned us to stay inside the boundaries. But staying inside is boring…"

He glared at the gate, his eyes sparkling. Mycroft had seen the same glint in his brother's eyes several times. It usually meant trouble.

"Taka…" Mycroft slowly said.

Before he could do anything, Taka ran forward and pushed through a hole in the fence, coming out on the other side.

"Taka!" Mycroft and Sherlock shouted.

"Taka, what are you doing?" Kopa roared, leaping up.

The three hastily raced over. Taka was slowly walking towards a watering hole.

"Taka," Kopa hissed, "Get back here! Taka!"

"This isn't safe," Mycroft cried, "Taka, please…"

A high-pitched noise suddenly pierced the air. Mycroft and Sherlock covered their ears but Kopa and Taka were in complete agony. They both fell to the ground, trembling with pain.

Before Sherlock and Mycroft could react, a poacher leapt out of a nearby shrub.

"TAKA!"

Kopa ripped through the hole and Sherlock and Mycroft immediately followed.

Sherlock tried to grab onto the poacher's arm but the poacher hit him. He crumpled and fell into Mycroft's arms.

Kopa pounced and clawed at the poacher. The poacher dropped something and a flash blinded Mycroft, Sherlock, and Taka. Before they knew what was happening, Kopa was being shoved in a cage. Another flash and the poacher was gone.

"Kopa!" Taka screamed.

Sherlock rubbed the red mark on his cheek and Mycroft urgently asked, "Are you okay?"

Sherlock didn't answer and instead turned to the trembling cub.

"It's alright," Sherlock quietly said, "We're going to get him back."

"H…hang on," Mycroft uncertainly said, "We can't just…"

"He's my brother," Taka frantically cried, "If something happened to your brother, wouldn't you do everything to save him?"

"Damn," Mycroft hissed before saying, "Alright…let's get the Doctor."

"Let's not," Sherlock meekly suggested, "We can do this by ourselves."

"Sherlock, don't be ridiculous," Mycroft cried, "We need the Doctor's help."

"No, we don't."

"What…?"

"He told us to watch them!" Sherlock hissed, "We can't let him know that we failed."

Before Mycroft could argue, Taka cried, "Come on!"

He shot forward and Sherlock and Mycroft quickly ran after him.

"Slow down!" Sherlock gasped, "We can't keep up!"

"And you say that humans are superior!" Taka shouted.

They raced across the land. Twigs and rocks scraped at the brothers' arms and legs but they continued to follow Taka. After a quarter of an hour, they approached a poacher camp.

The three ducked behind several shrubs and carefully observed the scene. Cages were scattered about, holding imprisoned animals. Kopa was crouched in the corner of one, his fur sticking up and his teeth clenched.

"Kopa," Taka whispered.

"Don't worry," Sherlock assuredly murmured, "We'll get him out."

Mycroft firmly agreed though the two frowned as they realized the severity of the situation. They were in the wilderness on a strange planet, facing dangerous predators, without anyone to help them.

Sherlock closed his eyes and whispered, "If these poachers don't kill us, the Doctor will."

Taka suddenly whirled around, defensively growling. Sherlock and Mycroft tensed as a voice calmly said, "Well, that would be a severe misuse of my companions."

The Doctor was standing right behind them, calmly holding his hands behind his back.

"How long have you been there?" Mycroft miserably asked.

"I followed you from the start," the Doctor chuckled, "You honestly thought that I didn't hear the crashes and shouts?"

"We're sorry," Sherlock said, in a small voice, "We're so sorry, Doctor."

"For what, Sherlock?"

"You told us to protect them," Sherlock guiltily murmured.

"And you ran for fifteen minutes to do so," the Doctor pointed out, "Quite impressive, I might add, considering the fact that Kopa is part of an inferior species."

He said the last part reproachfully and Sherlock's cheeks reddened. He rubbed the back of his neck and sheepishly mumbled, "Iwaswrong."

"What was that?"

"I was wrong," Sherlock whispered.

"Sorry, Sherlock," the Doctor calmly said, "I still didn't hear you."

"You're a Time Lord," Sherlock hissed, "You have amazing hearing."

"I didn't hear you," Mycroft offered with a smirk.

"I was wrong," Sherlock heatedly exclaimed, "Alright? I was wrong! If I say it any louder, we're going to alert the poachers."

"But that's exactly what we want to do," the Doctor mischievously said, "You two have been travelling with me for almost three months. Surely you've realized what the best thing to do in this situation is?"

"Think it through," Mycroft teasingly offered.

"Nope," the Doctor smirked, "Make an entrance."

As if on cue, Ahadi leapt past them and into the camp. He gave a loud roar and the poachers screamed out. The Doctor jumped next to him and held up his Sonic Screwdriver. He gracefully whirled around, deactivating the guns and opening the cages. Sherlock and Mycroft raced forward to stand next to him and Taka crouched at their feet. Kopa raced over and nuzzled his brother before growling as the poachers surrounded them.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't rip your throats out," Ahadi menacingly growled.

"Err…me," the Doctor quickly said, "I'm a reason. I'm a very good reason. You can't fight violence with violence, Ahadi."

"Try me."

"No, no," the Doctor cried, "I mean you _shouldn't_. Sherlock and Taka argued about who the superior species was. Prove it. Prove that you are the better man. Metaphorically speaking."

"These monsters killed our mother," Kopa angrily pointed out, "They captured me and they could have killed Taka."

"We can't just let them go," Taka agreed.

"Oh, I didn't say that we would let them go," the Doctor fiercely said, "We've talked about humans, we've talked about Kubumas. There is one species that we haven't talked about."

"What?" Sherlock curiously asked.

"Time Lords."

And just like that, something changed in the Doctor. It was a look that Sherlock and Mycroft rarely saw and often feared. The Doctor towered over the poachers and shook with a ferocious anger. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Sherlock and Mycroft reflexively leapt back but realized that it was a pouch of gold.

"You will take this," the Doctor declared, "You will leave. You will never come back."

One of the poachers slowly stepped forward before snatching the gold away.

"And if you come back," the Doctor menacingly threatened, "Well then, you will be trespassing on the Kubumas' land. And trespassers shall be prosecuted."

It was evident by the looks on the poachers' faces that they understood.

"This planet is now under my protection," the Doctor warned.

The poacher fumbled with the gold before whispering, "W…who are you?"

He gave them a wry smile and coldly said, "I'm the Doctor."

Ahadi gave a loud roar and Kopa and Taka imitated it. Sherlock and Mycroft glanced at one another before loudly shouting and whooping.

"Give me that," the Doctor snapped, grabbing a fez from a poacher's head as he frantically ran by, "You don't deserve to wear it."

He angrily shook it in the man's face and cried, "Now, go on! Clear out of here!"

The poachers quickly raced away.

"I honestly wasn't expecting you to pull out _gold_," Sherlock admitted.

"I thought that you were going to pull out some sonic weapon," Mycroft added.

"Being a Time Lord means knowing when it's time to fight," the Doctor declared, "And when it's time to just act really really clever."

He then placed the fez onto Ahadi's head.

The Kubuma looked curious and asked, "What is it?"

"It's a fez," the Doctor promptly said, "Fezzes are…"

"Don't say it," Mycroft warned.

"But they…"

"Nope."

"Fezzes are cool," the Doctor burst out and Sherlock laughed.

"They're about as cool as bowties," Mycroft muttered.

The Doctor looked touched and said, "Thanks, Mycroft."

"No, I didn't…" Mycroft started before changing his mind and gently saying, "You're welcome, Doctor."

"Children, I hope that you have learned something," Ahadi wisely said, "Kubumas and humans are both equal to one another. We are one."

The four solemnly nodded and the Doctor added, "But Time Lords are the best!"

Sherlock suddenly grabbed the fez, throwing it. Kopa caught it and the two cubs ripped it apart. The Doctor looked horrified and Mycroft praised, "River would be proud."

"Hey," Sherlock cried, "I just thought of something. We may _live_ in a brick house but we travel in style. Check this out! Come on!"

He eagerly led the Kubumas across the plains and Mycroft and the Doctor amusedly followed. They finally reached the Tardis; the blue box contrasting against the yellow grass.

"Wow!" Taka whispered.

"That is so cool," Kopa agreed.

"I know," Sherlock said with a smile.

"Don't act so smug," the Doctor laughed, "She's my box. What happened to you being wrong about humans being the superior species?"

"I was wrong," Sherlock sheepishly admitted. He turned to the cubs and shyly apologized. They humbly accepted his apology.

Mycroft suddenly got an idea. He bent down and whispered a question to the cubs.

They hesitated for a brief moment before both simultaneously saying, "A watermelon."

Mycroft glanced at his brother who wrinkled his nose before shouting, "It could have been a flamingo!"

Taka laughed and tackled him to the ground. Sherlock frowned before smirking and wrestling with the cub. Kopa and Mycroft joined in and soon the four were racing through the grass, laughing and playing. Ahadi and the Doctor amusedly looked on.

"You were right," the Doctor beamed, "We are one."

Author's Note: Yes, alright, I admit it…I may have let my Lion King obsession bleed into this chapter. Especially with the names…In my defense, it's not like I named them Simba, and Kovu. I used names that many people don't know. (In case you _are_ interested, Taka is Scar's real name, Kopa is the name of Simba's cub before Kiara who appears in a series of books but not the second movie, and Ahadi is Mufasa and Taka's father.)

And I also included the 'we are one' theme. It's not the best Lion King song (nor is it the first that I would listen to) but it's still a good message.

Actually, now that I think about it, the best Lion King/Doctor Who song would probably be the Circle of Life. The Broadway version, just because that version is epic.

Speaking of epic Lion King Broadway Music, there's also King of Pride Rock / Circle of Life Reprise. Not quite sure what that has to do with Doctor Who other than the fact that both are pretty epic. Or 'He Lives in You'. Again, the Broadway version, just because…

Well, I'm off to listen to a bunch of Lion King music. I hope that you enjoyed the fluffier chapter. (Because the next chapter is going to rip everybody's hearts out! Spoilers!)


	19. Chapter 19

Author's Note: I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry. I cannot apologize enough for this chapter. If it means anything, it was the hardest chapter that I have ever had to write in my eight years of writing fanfiction. Alright, on that note! (Sorry.) Geronimo. (So sorry.)

Chapter 19

Mycroft didn't want to get out of bed. He knew that the Doctor was going to be expecting them for breakfast. He didn't care. He only opened his eyes when he heard a small whimper. It sounded like a wounded animal but Mycroft could place the sound.

Sherlock was sitting up in his own bed, his knees pulled to his chest.

"Sherlock?" Mycroft softly called, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Sherlock hastily said, "Why wouldn't I be?"

So much for not getting out of bed. Mycroft sighed and crossed the room, putting his arm around his brother's shoulders. Sherlock shied away at first, but eventually leaned against him.

"Come on," Mycroft gently said.

He and Sherlock trudged into the console room. The Doctor was facing the console but happily exclaimed, "Good morning!"

"Morning," Mycroft tried to politely answer.

"So," the Doctor cheerfully cried, "Where do you want to go today?"

"I don't care," Sherlock mumbled.

His tone shocked the Doctor who spun around and asked, "What's wrong?"

Sherlock didn't answer and merely glanced at the ground. Mycroft tried to answer but his words mixed together into a weird grunt. He eventually walked over to the door and opened it, taking a bit of comfort from watching the stars go by. A cold draft came through but he hardly noticed until the Doctor calmly closed the door and repeated, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Mycroft lied and the Doctor saw right through him.

The Time Lord walked back over to Sherlock and crouched down, gently saying, "Look at me, Sherlock. What's wrong?"

"Just not feeling well," Sherlock muttered. The Doctor looked worried but Sherlock surprisingly pulled away from him and went back into the bedroom.

The Doctor glanced back at Mycroft, now frowning with worry. Mycroft rubbed the back of his neck and softly said, "Yeah…well…I'm sorry, Doctor but we…sorry…"

He finished spluttering out his lame sentence and started towards the bedroom. The Doctor gently grabbed his sleeve and gave him a concerned look.

Mycroft supposed that he deserved to know. So the boy sighed and tried his best to explain, "According to the clock…today on Earth…if we had stayed that is…it would be…"

He felt a knot begin to form in his throat but managed to croak, "It would be four years to the day that our mother passed."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor immediately and sincerely replied. He put a hand on Mycroft's shoulder and gently asked, "Are you alright? And don't lie to me."

"Yes."

"What did I just say?"

Mycroft sighed and guiltily admitted, "No. I'm sorry…I…"

"You have nothing to be sorry about," the Doctor gently said, "You and Sherlock have every right to be sad."

Mycroft nodded and went to check on his brother. Sherlock was sitting on his bed, picking at a thread in the blanket.

"Are you okay?" Mycroft asked.

"I don't really remember her," Sherlock burst out, "I mean, I remember someone who used to always sing to us…"

"That was her," Mycroft said with a smile, "She would always sing to us. Do you remember her face?"

Sherlock sadly shook his head and Mycroft rummaged through the trunk, pushing aside the toys, before pulling out the Beatles record. He slipped several photographs out and showed one to Sherlock. His brother smiled, the memories resurfacing.

"She was beautiful," Sherlock whispered.

"She was," Mycroft agreed, "It's a shame that she got sick."

Sherlock hesitated before saying, "Grilled cheese."

"What?"

"The night that Mummy went to the hospital," Sherlock said, now practically pulling his blanket apart, "You cooked grilled cheese for dinner."

"How on earth can you remember that?" Mycroft asked, awestruck.

"It wasn't that easy to forget," Sherlock snickered, "We had that for dinner for two weeks straight, before you finally thought of new recipes."

"Hey," Mycroft cried, "I did the best that I could."

Sherlock gave him an appreciative glance, but he wasn't one for gushing. In the end, he finally mumbled, "It was good grilled cheese."

Mycroft smiled, accepting the compliment. Sherlock briefly returned the smile before glancing at the wall. Mycroft understood that his brother wanted to be alone. That was how Sherlock was. Whereas others would want people around them when they were upset, Sherlock preferred to stay in a secluded room to think. So Mycroft left him to his thoughts and returned back to the main room.

The Doctor gave him a kind smile and said, "I'll just cancel today's plans. It wouldn't be right. We don't have to go anywhere."

"Actually," Mycroft hesitated, "There's someplace that I want to go."

"Sure," the Doctor said, looking surprised, "Anywhere. You name it."

"She was alone," Mycroft burst out.

"What?"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, momentarily confused, and Mycroft clarified, "Mum was alone when she died. We were at the library and Father said that he was in the cafeteria."

Once again, the Doctor put a hand on his shoulder and Mycroft continued, "Do you think…can you change that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Could you…I want to…be there," Mycroft managed. He wasn't exactly crying but he couldn't seem to remember how to form a proper sentence.

"Mycroft," the Doctor quietly said, "Are you asking me to take you back so that you can be with your mother when she passes away?"

"Somebody should be with her," Mycroft whispered, "Besides…I never even got a chance to say goodbye."

The Doctor hesitated before gently replying, "If you're sure about this…because I want to be perfectly clear that I cannot change anything."

He said the last part slowly, looking for the right words, but Mycroft understood and quickly said, "I know. I just want to be there."

"Are you sure that you can handle it?"

"Yes," Mycroft lied.

The Doctor looked momentarily skeptical but Mycroft practically begged, "Please…"

The Doctor softened and said, "Alright. Now what about Sherlock? I'm guessing that he probably shouldn't come along?"

"No," Mycroft agreed, "Especially since…we kind of kept him away from the hospital just because…she was so sick and she didn't look like Mum. We didn't want that to be how Sherlock remembered her. But I guess…I don't know…"

Mycroft suddenly felt incredibly guilty. For the first time in a long time he actually hadn't thought about Sherlock before himself. Then again, Mycroft realized that even if Sherlock wanted to come along, Mycroft didn't want him to. He felt selfish thinking it but after all, this was something that Mycroft had to do on his own. Well not completely on his own.

Mycroft jumped as he realized that the Doctor was talking. The Time Lord was on the phone and looked slightly relieved as he said, "Thanks, Jack. I owe you one."

He hung up and explained, "Jack said that it wasn't a problem."

"To do what?" Mycroft asked, slightly confused.

"To hang out with Sherlock," the Doctor explained.

Mycroft immediately felt a sense of relief. At least the Doctor was thinking clearly. And his brother would get to spend the day with Jack, which would cheer him up.

Still, he hesitantly said, "At Cardiff? Is he allowed to do that?"

"Oh sure," the Doctor assured him, "Today's 'bring-your-favorite-Time-Lord's-companion-to-work ' day."

He went back to the bedroom and gently said, "Sherlock, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Sherlock muttered, guiltily glancing at the heap of string that was once his blanket, "Sorry."

The Doctor waved it off and calmly said, "It's just a blanket. Hey! How would you like to spend the day with Jack?"

"Really?" Sherlock excitedly asked, "What about you and Mycroft?"

"We have to do something," the Doctor admitted, "Jack wanted to know if you would like to go to Cardiff. He said that you could even push the zero-gravity button."

Sherlock eagerly nodded and the Doctor led him out to the console room. A few buttons later and the Tardis was sitting next to a large building.

The doors opened and Jack cheerfully said, "Long time, no see!"

"Hi, Jack!" Sherlock happily greeted.

"Thanks for doing this," Mycroft whispered.

"No problem," Jack murmured, "You okay, Mycroft?"

Mycroft nodded and Jack looked skeptical before saying, "Alright. Well, we'll be right here if you need anything."

"Bye, Mycroft," Sherlock said, casting his brother a confused look.

"Have fun, Sherlock," Mycroft weakly said.

Jack led Sherlock away, giving him a cheerful smile.

Mycroft was about to close the door when his brother cried, "Mycroft!"

Sherlock raced over and shyly whispered, "Could you tell her that I love her?"

Mycroft's eyes widened and he whispered, "You heard?"

"No," Sherlock softly said, "I deduced."

Mycroft softened and nodded, "Of course, I'll tell her. She already knows."

Sherlock raced back to a smiling Jack and Mycroft closed the door.

The Doctor took a deep breath and gently asked, "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Mycroft mumbled.

"Remember," the Doctor quietly said, "We can't run into your Father. You said that he was in the cafeteria so we need to be careful."

Mycroft nodded and the Doctor hit a button.

The Tardis landed in the garden of the hospital. They walked in and glanced around the sterile lobby. A kind receptionist asked if they needed anything and they shook their heads.

As they crept past the cafeteria, Mycroft glanced into the window. The Doctor hissed his name and Mycroft crouched down.

"He's not in there," Mycroft realized.

"What?"

"Father isn't in there," Mycroft pointed out.

The Doctor suddenly looked nervous and said, "Mycroft, if your father is in the room, we can't go in."

"I understand," Mycroft sighed.

They took the lift up to the fifth floor and wearily stepped out. Mycroft suddenly realized that his legs were nothing more than jelly. The luminous lights seemed to blind him. He nevertheless found the strength to walk up the corridor.

They stopped outside Room 221 and Mycroft took a deep breath.

"I'm right behind you," the Doctor assured him.

Mycroft opened the door and they solemnly entered. Mrs. Holmes was the only one in the room. She was sitting up in the bed, though her eyes were closed. Mycroft's heart wrenched as he stared at her. She was skin and bones, and was as pale as the sheets.

"Hi, Mum," Mycroft shakily said.

"Hello, love," Mrs. Holmes whispered with a smile, "Why…you're _older_."

Mycroft didn't deny it and softly said, "Sherlock…sends…"

His throat momentarily seemed to close. The Doctor squeezed his arm and tenderly clarified, "Sherlock sends his love."

Her smile grew, though she looked confused and asked, "Have we met before, dear?"

"No," the Doctor gently said, "I'm the Doctor. I'm a friend of Mycroft's."

"He's more than that," Mycroft said, "Mum…the Doctor takes us places. We travel across the universe and back and forth in time…"

The Doctor looked hesitant but Mycroft shot him a quick look that asked for trust. After all, she wasn't going to have this information for long. The Doctor nodded and Mycroft suddenly found himself gushing about their adventures. He left out a few of the more dangerous details but told her about everything else, even getting slightly animated as he did so. His mother's eyes lit up with excitement as he explained everything.

"You should have seen it, Mum! The moment he opened the door and we saw the entire universe unfold before us…I thought that it was a dream…we sailed across the clouds…the toys were charging towards us but Sherlock managed to figure it out…he took down an entire supercomputer…bowties are cool…and then the Weeping Angels charged towards us but River Song managed to give us enough time to run…John Lennon sends his regards by the way…and then…Captain Jack Harkness…I thought that I was going to give the Doctor a double-heart attack when he found out that I was on a date…he threw shrimp at me…pink hair…had to jump from the train…Kopa and Taka…see bowties _are_ cool…"

The Doctor stood back, smiling as Mycroft rambled. It was more than a smile—it was the purest and warmest recognition from someone who realized just how much they had done.

When the stories were finally done, Mrs. Holmes lovingly said, "Oh Mycroft…look at you. Look at how much you've grown."

"I'm only four years older," Mycroft mumbled, his ears pink.

"But you look so much wiser," Mrs. Holmes tenderly whispered, "So much happier… just knowing that you and Sherlock are safe makes _me_ happier than you can ever imagine. But knowing that you're having fun…that you're having an adventure…"

She paused for a moment, regaining her strength, before promptly saying, "And what does my husband think of these adventures?"

Mycroft and the Doctor glanced at one another.

"Um…"

"Err…"

"I thought as much," Mrs. Holmes sighed, "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, no," the Doctor hastily said before thinking about it and changing his mind, "Well, there is actually one thing…"

He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and explained, "It might not hurt to have this signed. That is, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course not," Mrs. Holmes gently said, signing away, "I trust you, Doctor."

"Thank you," the Doctor said, touched.

She smiled and sincerely said, "Thank you."

The Doctor's eyes sparkled and it was a moment before he earnestly said, "You never have to thank me."

Mrs. Holmes suddenly looked very tired and the excitement that came from telling the stories quickly faded away as Mycroft said, "Mum?"

He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. She then closed her eyes and weakly took a few breaths. The Doctor watched for a moment before sadly saying, "Mycroft…I can't change the fact that she will die."

"I know," Mycroft said, huskily.

"But," the Doctor continued, "I can change _how_ she dies. If you want…I can adjust a few things so that she can go in peace. She won't be in pain."

Mycroft looked up at this but couldn't speak. He nodded and the Doctor somberly took out the Sonic Screwdriver. He clicked it a few times and the Med Cart beeped. Mrs. Holmes seemed to relax and she even smiled.

"She's dreaming," the Doctor softly explained.

"What about?"

The Doctor didn't answer and instead merely gave him a small smile. But Mycroft understood. She was dreaming about the two brightest boys in London. She was dreaming of the days that she used to sing and play the violin for them. And maybe…just maybe…she was dreaming about a blue police box. Mycroft continued to squeeze her hand, even when she didn't squeeze back. A monitor began to shrilly scream and Mycroft looked up, catching the Doctor's eye. He didn't say anything but something must've shown on his face for the Doctor to cross the room in one stride and tightly hug him.

Mycroft unashamedly sobbed into his chest and the Doctor held him for a minute before leading him away as the others raced into the room. He only stopped when they were several floors below. The two sat on a bench in the waiting room and the Doctor gently rested his forehead against Mycroft's. Mycroft felt considerably better and straightened up, wiping his eyes. He wanted to thank the Doctor but still couldn't find the ability to speak. In the end, he didn't need to say anything. The Doctor understood. Mycroft wiped his eyes once more and anxiously looked around. He caught sight of something and immediately frowned.

"Mycroft," the Doctor slowly said, "What is it?"

Mycroft didn't answer but felt as though his blood was boiling. He angrily pointed over to the nurses' station. His father was there but he wasn't alone. He was with another nurse, laughing and boastfully talking. Mycroft recognized her…he had once hoped that he would never see her again. But there she was. With her hand enclosed around his father's hand.

"Mycroft," the Doctor was saying, "Perhaps we should get back to the Tardis?"

"_You son of a bitch._"

"Or not," the Doctor mumbled as he leapt up to scramble after Mycroft, "And language!"

Mycroft was unaware that he had yelled and was only partially aware that he was stomping down the corridor.

The Doctor tripped and fell over an elderly woman's walker, giving Mycroft the opportunity to walk up to his surprised father and shout, "You told me that you were in the cafeteria when she died! You told me that you had raced up three flights of stairs to try and be with her and how devastated you were and how much you loved her!"

"How dare you use that tone of voice with me?" Mr. Holmes roared seconds before he was knocked clean off his feet as Mycroft heatedly punched him in the jaw.

"Here you go, ma'am," the Doctor apologized, handing the woman the walker before looking up and saying, "Ah no."

He raced over and put a hand on Mycroft's arm, both restraining him and comforting him. Once it was clear that Mycroft had done what he needed to do, the Doctor glanced down and admittedly muttered, "Good hit."

"Thanks," Mycroft remarked.

The nurse had quickly raced away but Mycroft didn't really care. He had made his point and for once he had actually stood up to his father. His knuckles were swollen but he didn't care.

Unfortunately, other people were crowding onto the ward to see what the commotion was all about.

"Don't worry," the Doctor quickly shouted, "I'm on it. I'm the Doctor."

"Yeah," a snarky man pointed out, "A lot of us are doctors. We're in a hospital."

"Yes, but I'm _the_ Doctor."

He ordered the others to put Mr. Holmes in a wheelchair. The man was dazed and though his jaw didn't appear to be broken, he was in a good deal of pain. He and Mycroft then straightened up, awkwardly aware that the crowd was staring at them. The Doctor shot Mycroft a quick glare. He just _had_ to go mess with his time-stream and potentially threaten the existence of the universe. Mycroft tried to show how guilty he felt but was relieved when the Doctor didn't look angry for long. Instead the Time Lord pulled out the psychic paper and cried, "Thank you for your help. You see…we're filming this scene for our movie…I play the Doctor…he plays the teenager who punches his idiotic father…so…yeah."

The others nodded, slightly dazed, and calmly went back to their work.

"What now?" Mycroft asked, his anger and triumphant victory turning into worry as he realized that he had interfered with his own time-stream. It was different with his mother because…well she would never get to talk to him in any other time. But his father could easily turn around and start yelling at his ten-year-old self for punching him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Are you lying?"

"Yes."

"Can you walk?"

"Yes."

"Stay with me," the Doctor gently ordered and the two set off with the Time Lord pushing the wheelchair. Mycroft couldn't help but to notice that more than once, the Doctor 'accidentally' bumped the chair into the wall or doorway. At long last they made it to the cafeteria. Mycroft groaned as he realized what the Doctor was going to do.

"We can't have him yelling at you," the Doctor explained, "That will mess everything up and you certainly don't need that when you find out about your mother's death."

He clumsily lifted Mr. Holmes from the wheelchair and set him in a booth. The unconscious man drooped against the wall, scraping his head in the process. The woman behind the counter looked up, eyes narrowed with suspicion, but the Doctor assured her that everything was fine and even ordered a large basket of chips. Mycroft slipped a few pounds out of his father's wallet to pay.

"I'm really not that hungry," Mycroft mumbled.

"Eat anyway," the Doctor advised.

So he did.

The two sat and calmly ate the chips, completely ignoring the fact that there was an unconscious man sitting next to them.

"I'm sorry," Mycroft sighed.

"It's quite alright," the Doctor reassured him, "I completely understand. Well…no…not really. What finally made you snap?"

"We knew that he was having an affair," Mycroft muttered, "Sherlock and I figured it out and we actually confronted him about it. He denied it, of course. He shouted at us and told us that we had no business to accuse him. But the evidence was obvious. I just couldn't believe that anyone could be that…"

"Heartless?" the Doctor offered.

Mycroft nodded and spluttered, "I mean, who does that? Who cheats on their wife when she's in the hospital? When she's sick? And I actually thought that Father had…called it off…I thought that he knew how heartless he was being and he had stopped. But he was with her…he was with her when our mother was dying…"

He broke off and the Doctor reached over and squeezed his arm.

Mr. Holmes suddenly grunted and the Doctor nodded for Mycroft to leave. He ducked around the wall and heard the Time Lord say, "Hello. Looks like you had a bit of a fall. You hit your jaw on the table and smacked your head off the floor."

"I had…the weirdest…dream."

"Yes, yes. Dreams are quite weird."

"Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm the…"

"Mr. Holmes?"

Mycroft held his breath as a doctor—an actual doctor—came into the cafeteria and frantically said, "There you are. Good heavens, are you alright?"

"Had a fall," Mr. Holmes explained, "How is Elizabeth?"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Holmes…"

"Elizabeth?" Mr. Holmes quickly whispered, "How is she?"

The M.D. hesitated and the Doctor took over, "I'm sorry. She didn't make it."

"No…no…my wife…Elizabeth…"

Mr. Holmes leapt up. Mycroft tensed his father raced by but the man didn't see him. He blindly ran up the stairs, calling his wife's name.

"Come on," the Doctor gently said, at Mycroft's side once more.

He and Mycroft walked back through the hospital and out onto the grounds. The Tardis was still there, basking in the sunlight.

In a few hours, Mycroft Holmes (aged ten) would arrive at the hospital with Sherlock in tow. The former would be crying and the latter would be confused and afraid.

As Mycroft leaned against the door of the Tardis, he remembered that he had been the one to tell Sherlock what had happened. His brother didn't understand at first. Mycroft had to explain everything. At the age of ten, he had to be the mature one and look out for his brother.

And he was still doing just that. The only difference between the last four years and now was that Mycroft had help when it came to looking after Sherlock. And he had to admit that it was nice for somebody to look out for him.

The Doctor put a hand on his shoulder, looking slightly concerned, but Mycroft smiled and said, "I made a lot of grilled cheese when our mum was ill."

"I heard," the Doctor admitted.

"Tonight I would use an entire loaf of bread," Mycroft admitted, "And a giant block of cheese. And Sherlock and I would eat it all. Blimey, I still don't know why I did that."

"You were upset," the Doctor said, "You were probably in shock. Not to mention the fact that you were only ten and you had to take care of your brother."

"Yeah…" Mycroft sighed, "The thing is…I really hate grilled cheese."

() () ()

"It's not funny, Jack!"

"You're right…you're right…"

Mycroft frowned as Jack doubled over in laughter. Sherlock was practically on all-fours.

"It's not funny!" Mycroft cried.

The Doctor leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a smirk tugging at his mouth.

"You actually punched Father!" Sherlock gasped, clutching his stomach.

"It's not funny!"

"It's hilarious," Jack cried, "You punched your father!"

"It's not…Doctor, tell them!"

The Doctor opened his mouth before admitting, "Mycroft, it was pretty funny."

"Glad you all find it so amusing," Mycroft muttered.

"Hey, not that way," Jack quickly assured him, "It was funny because your father finally got what was coming to him and he got it from you."

"You stuck up to Father!" Sherlock gushed, "You punched Father! That was amazing!"

"It was impressive," the Doctor agreed.

"Even if it could have ripped apart the universe?" Mycroft asked, raising his eyebrows.

The Doctor waved his hand and nonchalantly said, "You wouldn't be my companion if you didn't occasionally risk destroying the entire universe."

Mycroft nodded but still stepped out into the corridor. He leaned against the wall and heard the door reopen. He didn't have to open his eyes to see who it was.

"He really was in the cafeteria," Mycroft mumbled, numbly, "He really did run up three flights of stairs and he really was devastated."

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, "He was."

"But he still…he was still seeing that woman…that wasn't right. How can I believe that he loved our mother when he was cheating on her?"

"Your father does not have his priorities in line," the Doctor gently explained, "From what I've seen of him, I think that he _does_ love you and Sherlock. And I think that he did love your mother. Or at least, I think that he truly cares about the three of you. For a man like your father, that's actually saying something. Unfortunately, there's a difference between caring about someone and making them your first priority."

Mycroft pondered this for a moment before opening his eyes and asking, "What about you? What's your biggest priority?"

The Doctor looked thoughtful for a moment before softly saying, "Come on. Let's grab your brother and the three of us can get back to the universe."

Mycroft nodded, slightly annoyed that he hadn't answered his question.

Then again, Mycroft realized, maybe he had.

And so he grinned and muttered, "Geronimo!"

Author's Note: I'm sorry!


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

"Avast!"

"Engard!"

"Sherlock, pirates _don't_ _say_—"

"YES THEY DO! I'M REWRITING HISTORY TO MAKE THEM SAY IT!"

Mycroft chuckled and slashed the wooden sword. Sherlock dramatically fell to the ground, shrieking, "Me hand! NO! I just took orthopedic-surgery off of me insurance plan!"

Mycroft bit back a smile. Sherlock leapt up and grabbed a hanger from the wardrobe, pulling his sleeve over it. He then jumped onto the bed and shouted, "Ye will pay for that!"

"I just cut your hand off!" Mycroft pointed out, "Shouldn't you be going into shock?"

"It's a flesh-wound," Sherlock muttered, raising his wooden word, "Engard!"

"Avast!"

They fell into the corridor and fought their way into the console room.

The door to the cupboard flew open and the Doctor leapt out, sporting an eye-patch and a tricorn hat as he bellowed, "Mwahaha! I be taking your ship!"

"Mutiny!" Mycroft roared.

"We have no choice but to join sides!" Sherlock cried.

"Ye be right!" Mycroft shouted, "Together we be invincible!"

Five minutes later, they were lying on the ground in defeat. The Doctor gave a sinister laugh and boldly declared, "Ye shall be walking the plank!"

Sherlock and Mycroft bowed their heads and trudged along. The Doctor prodded their backs with their own wooden swords, guffawing and bragging as they went.

"Well, you can't win them all," Sherlock sighed as they edged onto the plank, "It's been an honor sailing with ye, Captain Mycroft."

"The honor's all mine," Mycroft sadly growled.

The two simultaneously stepped from the diving-board and landed in the swimming pool.

They resurfaced, laughing and splashing. They then grabbed the Doctor's coattails and pulled him in. He yelped out before dunking the two of them.

"You know," Mycroft pondered, coughing up water, "It does seem a bit silly to be imagining things when we can go land on an actual pirate ship."

"Nothing is better than imagination," the Doctor pointed out.

"I wish that there was a way to see your own thoughts," Sherlock mused, floating around on his back.

"There is a way," the Doctor abruptly exclaimed, causing Sherlock to jerk in surprise and plunge beneath the water.

The Doctor climbed up the ladder and hastily said, "Come on! You're going to love this!"

The brothers followed him into the wind-tunnel to dry off and hurried into the console room. The Doctor whirled around, pressing buttons as he pleased.

"You know," Sherlock cried, clinging onto the console, "River once told me that the Tardis shouldn't shake like that."

"River is wrong," the Doctor calmly said.

"She also said that the Tardis shouldn't make that noise."

"River is wrong."

"In fact," Sherlock chuckled, "She said that you were driving with the brakes on."

"RIVER IS WRONG!"

The brothers laughed and the Doctor scowled as the Tardis landed. They wrenched open the door, only to disappointedly find that they were in a cramped office. A circular desk sat in front of an impressive door.

A temp glanced up and politely said, "Can I help you?"

"Hello," the Doctor said, "I'm the Doctor. This is Sherlock and Mycroft. We would like to go in."

She handed them three waiver-forms to fill out.

Mycroft skimmed it and muttered, "Not responsible for mutilation, disintegration, memory-loss, insanity (temporary and permanent), death…"

"That's just a formality," the Doctor calmly said, waving his hand, "Go on and sign it."

"If I must," Mycroft sighed and they signed away.

The temp then handed them a silver bracelet and hit a button. Something buzzed and the door swung open. The Doctor, Sherlock, and Mycroft entered a large dome-shaped room, which lacked any furniture or decoration. The walls were sterile-white and nearly reflective.

"You first, Mycroft," the Doctor decided, handing over the bracelet.

Mycroft gave him a skeptical look but slid it on. The walls immediately lit up with dozens of pictures and words. They overlapped one another and escalated into a collage that spread across the walls and ceiling.

"What is it?" Mycroft asked in awe.

"Your thoughts," the Doctor gently explained, "This dome projects every thought and memory that you've ever had. Even if the thoughts and memories are in your subconscious. Even if you don't remember having the thoughts. It's impressive with an ordinary mind but you two have an eidetic memory. This is going to be good."

Mycroft smiled at the possibilities and asked, "Can I control them?"

"Sure," the Doctor shrugged, "They're your thoughts."

Mycroft closed his eyes. Unbeknownst to him, the thoughts swirled around until they reorganized themselves. When he opened his eyes, he was amazed to see that a large panorama of a bookshelf stretched across the room with thousands of books.

"Wicked," Sherlock whispered.

"A good way to organize your thoughts," the Doctor praised, "Now, try to think of something specific."

Mycroft thought of the first thing that came to his mind: Bowties.

A book sprang open to his left and the dome zoomed into the page. It showed the definition of the word in Mycroft's handwriting. He remembered that he had had the word on a spelling test, long ago. Mycroft attentively reached forward and moved his hand. The page of the book flipped, revealing a wordless memory of Mycroft reciting the word to a faceless class.

"Aww," the Doctor's eyes lit up, "Baby Mycroft!"

"I was six," Mycroft mumbled with embarrassment.

He quickly reached out and made the motion to turn the page.

"Mum!" Sherlock excitedly cried.

Indeed, Mrs. Holmes was reaching towards them, apparently adjusting something. They caught a glance of Mycroft in the mirror. He was several years older and was in the nursery, preparing to go down to one of Mr. Holmes' dinner-parties. Sherlock sat on a bed nearby. He couldn't have been more than three years old.

"Baby Sherlock," the Doctor squealed.

"Oh," Sherlock sadly whispered, "I remember this."

"So do I," Mycroft muttered and before he could stop himself, the page automatically turned and showed a shattered plate on the floor.

It turned again to reveal an angry and befuddled Mr. Holmes.

Another turn of the page and all hell seemed to be breaking loose. Somebody was lying on the floor. Mrs. Holmes had had a migraine all day. Mycroft had been concerned but she had insisted that she was fine. Mycroft and Sherlock uncomfortably watched as members of the crowd gently helped her to her feet. The walls lit up with lights of an ambulance. Then Sherlock was pressing through the crowd, confused and intrigued. Mycroft's hand stretched out just as his younger self's hand did. Sherlock took it and was led upstairs.

"Let's continue onto bowties," the Doctor quietly suggested.

Bowties. The Doctor.

They were suddenly surrounded by dozens of different books, flipping through warm memories of their adventures with the Doctor and the Doctor's previous adventures. It was like watching several dozen home-videos of their past four months. They happily looked around for several minutes before Sherlock impatiently cried, "I want to try!"

"Go ahead," Mycroft chuckled, handing the bracelet over.

Sherlock excitedly put it on.

Mycroft and the Doctor stared, awestruck, as the thoughts zoomed around them. Some flashed for seconds. Others faded in and out. Different memories emerged; faces and planets.

"Sherlock," Mycroft slowly said.

Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut and the thoughts escalated. Mycroft felt nauseous as they zoomed around and croaked, "He can't honestly be thinking about all of this at once."

"Not all at once," the Doctor agreed, "But they are there. They're all in the back of his mind, waiting to be pulled to his consciousness. He doesn't seem to be able to organize them as well as you can."

Sherlock gave a small groan of pain.

"Sherlock," Mycroft concernedly said, "Are you alright?"

Sherlock clutched his forehead, as if he was getting a headache.

"Take the bracelet off," the Doctor gently ordered, "That's enough."

Sherlock shook with an overwhelming exhaustion. Mycroft desperately reached forward and pulled his brother into his arms. Sherlock tensed and blindly tried to pull away but eventually leaned against Mycroft's chest. Mycroft and the Doctor looked up and watched in awe as the thoughts and memories faded away.

"What…what happened?" Mycroft asked, "What did I do?"

"You calmed him down," the Doctor beamed.

"But…he's not thinking of anything," Mycroft whispered.

"Exactly," the Doctor exclaimed, "No worries. No thoughts. Just…bliss."

Mycroft hesitated and slowly let go of Sherlock. It took Sherlock a few moments to realize this and when he did, his eyes flew open and the memories surged back. Mycroft once again folded his arms around his brother. Sherlock contentedly relaxed. Mycroft reached down and pulled the bracelet off before letting go of his brother. Sherlock looked dazed for a moment before excitedly saying, "Your turn, Doctor!"

The Doctor hesitated before putting it on. Immediately, the universe seemed to spread across the entire dome. Then, it began to rapidly move. Mycroft thought that Sherlock's thoughts were quick. He and Sherlock had to spin around to try and see everything that was on the Doctor's mind. Millions of planets, billions of faces, trillions of years. A cracking noise filled the entire dome and the ceiling and walls suddenly shattered. Mycroft dove on top of Sherlock and the Doctor leapt on top of the both of them. They shakily stood up, inspecting for injuries.

"What happened?" Mycroft asked.

"I overwhelmed it," the Doctor sheepishly admitted.

"But…you didn't even have it on for a minute," Sherlock pointed out.

"Yeah," the Doctor murmured, rubbing the back of his neck, "Twenty-seven brains."

They stepped over the large shards and he continued, "Alright, let's play a game."

"A game?" Mycroft skeptically asked.

"Yep."

"What is it?" Sherlock asked.

"It's called 'Let's Run Back To The Tardis Before People Find Out That We Just Destroyed Multimillion Dollar Technology.'"

"Oh, that game," Sherlock scoffed, "That game's boring. We play it all the time."

The Doctor chuckled and the three raced back into the office and dove into the Tardis.

Mycroft shut the door and the Doctor pulled a lever. They immediately took off.

"Wow…" Sherlock whispered, "That was amazing."

"Before or after we destroyed it?" Mycroft snickered.

"Both," Sherlock laughed.

"I knew that you'd like it," the Doctor said with a smile.

"Yeah," Mycroft sighed, "There's just one thing left to do."

"What?"

He bent down, grabbed his wooden sword, and growled, "Take back me ship."

Sherlock smirked and grabbed his own sword, and the brothers roared, "Engard!"

Author's Note: A much lighter chapter than the one before. Speaking of which, I believe that I owe 'Amanda' a three-page essay on why the previous chapter was necessary. Here you go, Amanda!

Why The Previous Chapter Was Necessary

By: Marauders4EVR

First, let's take a look at Mycroft's canon-character. In the series _Sherlock_, of which this fanfiction is halfway based on, Mycroft is depicted as Sherlock's stern older brother. He states that he owns a 'minor position in the British government' though Sherlock remarks that 'he _is_ the government'. At the first glance, he may seem like Sherlock's opposite. He is quiet, formal, professional, cares about his appearance, and cares about his reputation. He begrudgingly looks after his younger brother, though it is obvious that something happened to drive the brothers away from one another. He also seems to be more apt to understanding social-cues and conventions. If we look closely, we can see that Mycroft actually shares several traits with his brother. One of the most obvious traits is the power of deduction. In the original series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Mycroft is said to have powers of deduction that are even greater than Sherlock's. Another trait that he shares is the ability to be quite dramatic. He kidnaps John on a frequent basis, flourishes his umbrella, and puts surveillance around Baker Street.

Now, let's look at Mycroft in this particular fanfiction. I've been writing fanfiction for eight years. By now, I put a lot of thought into each fanfiction. A _lot_ of thought. In the beginning of the fanfiction, we again see Mycroft as Sherlock's stern older brother. However, he still has a softer side. There's a part of him that wants to steal biscuits or play pirates, even though he knows that Mr. Holmes would be furious. Unfortunately, Mycroft has had to repress that side in order to raise and protect Sherlock. After all, he made a promise to a very important woman that he would always protect Sherlock; until the end of time. And Mycroft also realizes that there comes a point when it is socially-unacceptable to brandish a wooden sword or act like a child. As the fanfiction goes on, you see Mycroft and Sherlock both come out of their shells. I could go into another three-page rant essay about Sherlock's character development. But much like the previous chapter, this is a Mycroft-themed essay.

After Mycroft and Sherlock joyously run around with pirates, Mycroft and the Doctor have a heartfelt conversation on top of the Tardis. The Doctor comforts Mycroft who has a good cry, though only after ensuring that Sherlock wouldn't be there to _see_ him cry. When they go to the giant toy-store, you see Mycroft excitedly look around, though he tries to act nonchalant. As the story progresses, Mycroft shows more and more emotions—some good, some bad. There are still moments when he'll bring himself to full height and be the mature voice of reason. But the Doctor definitely breaks him out of his shell and shows him that it's alright to have fun. It's alright to have an adventure. It's alright. Everything is going to be alright.

At this point in the fanfiction, we're just under four months into their adventure. That is, if you go by the clock in the brother's bedroom. So one day, Mycroft opens his eyes and realizes that it is the 'anniversary' of their mother's death. He is immediately overcome with sadness; he doesn't want to leave his bed, he doesn't want to do anything. But then Sherlock makes that small whimpering noise. So, once again, Mycroft pulls himself together and calmly goes over, making sure that Sherlock is alright. They go out into the nursery where the Doctor eventually gets Mycroft to explain why he's upset. After a touching conversation between the brothers, Mycroft realizes that he never really got a chance to say goodbye to their mother. He was too busy taking care of Sherlock. And so Mycroft attentively asks the Doctor a question: Is it possible to go back and be with my mother when she's dying? For once, Mycroft Holmes isn't thinking about Sherlock. That's not to say that Sherlock isn't important in this chapter. I imagine that he and Jack had a wonderful time terrorizing Cardiff. However, this is a Mycroft-centered chapter. And this is a great chapter to look at his character development. So far, Sherlock was always the one with his foot halfway out the Tardis door, in anticipation for an adventure, whereas Mycroft was a bit weary. But after the reunion with his mother, Mycroft finds himself gushing about their adventures. And it's there that you realize just how much the Doctor means to Mycroft and how much the adventures have meant. Even the Doctor is pleasantly surprised to learn just how much he changed Mycroft's life. And then you get the wonderful moment between Mrs. Holmes and the Doctor. (Spoilers: That paper will come in handy in a few chapters.) And then…the inevitable happens. And Mycroft breaks down which is both heartbreaking and liberating, because he finally gets the chance to do so.

And then the slight plot-twist. The Doctor leads Mycroft away and down a few floors, so that he doesn't have to see the doctors and nurses try to unsuccessfully revive Mrs. Holmes. It is there that Mycroft spots his father with a nurse, of whom he was having an affair with. Now, hopefully you've picked up on the fact that the Doctor…well…let's just say that he and Mr. Holmes don't exactly see eye-to-eye. But I didn't want to write the Doctor's reaction to seeing this. I wanted to write Mycroft's. In the very first chapter, Mycroft doesn't even have the courage to stand up to his father when being forced from the nursery. Character-development is truly a wonderful thing. Because not only does he stand up to his father, he punches him and sends him sprawling to the ground. Granted, there is the small problem of messing with his own time-stream. Luckily, the Doctor smoothly takes care of everything. I then put in the moment where Mycroft is leaning against the Tardis, thinking back to four years ago, when he and Sherlock entered that very hospital. Four years and several batches of grilled cheese later, Mycroft is still apt on keeping his promise. Only now, he's not just protecting Sherlock. Mycroft, the Doctor, and Sherlock are all protecting one another. And sometimes, Jack and River are there to protect them and be protected. I guess you could say that they are all one big happy family.

In conclusion, there are many reasons why the previous chapter was necessary. One thing about both Doctor Who and Sherlock is that crises seem to bring out the best in the characters (or the worst). The previous chapter was necessary to show Mycroft's character-development and just how much he cares about Sherlock and the Doctor. It was necessary to show just how much the Doctor cares about Sherlock and Mycroft. It was necessary to show just how much Mrs. Holmes care about her boys and how much Sherlock and Mycroft care about her. (And how much the Doctor cares about her.) It was a painful chapter to write, and I imagine that it was a painful chapter to read. But sometimes the saddest chapters are the most liberating.


	21. Chapter 21

Author's Note: This isn't a chapter so much as it is two one-shots of the Doctor comforting Mycroft and Sherlock. I couldn't find a way to make them fit into another chapter but I still wanted them to be a part of the story.

Chapter Twenty-One

"Call it."

At Mycroft's command, the Doctor checked his watch and exclaimed, "Two hours, forty-four minutes, and thirteen seconds."

"A new record," Sherlock cheered, high-fiving his brother.

The three beamed down at the completed puzzle. It was a 1000-piece compilation of the skyline of London. It only made sense that Sherlock and Mycroft were phenomenal at jigsaw puzzles. Putting together the pieces of a puzzle was the Holmes' brothers calling.

"Well done," the Doctor praised, "Alright. Time for bed."

"In a minute," Mycroft excitedly remarked, "I finally reached the last volume; _The Angels Take Manhattan._ I want to read it."

"Err…Mycroft…" the Doctor hesitantly said.

"It'll only take a few minutes," Mycroft promised, ducking into the library.

He emerged half an hour later. The Doctor had put Sherlock to bed and was now expectantly leaning against the console.

"Oh," Mycroft managed.

"Yeah," the Doctor softly said.

Mycroft closed his eyes and whispered, "So…did the Angel end up sending her back to the right time?"

"They were happy in the end," the Doctor sighed, "According to their letter."

Mycroft opened his mouth but didn't comment. He knew that if he was ever in the situation that Amy and Rory were in, he would still write a letter to the Doctor, reassuring him that everything was fine. After all, sometimes the Doctor needed to protect his companions and sometimes it was the other way around.

"Did you ever go back and tell Amy the story?" Mycroft asked.

"Yeah," the Doctor sighed, "She still wanted to come into the Tardis and I told her that she would; in time."

"Where did you go after that?" Mycroft softly asked.

The Doctor smiled at that and explained, "I told the Tardis to take me where I needed to go. We ended up landing in a park in London."

"Really?" Mycroft muttered, surprised at the anticlimactic ending.

"I know," the Doctor gently continued, "I looked around and couldn't figure out what was wrong. I peeked out onto the street and saw an upset boy try to race across, just as an unobservant driver came up the road."

"No way," Mycroft whispered.

"Yep! And then the three of us sailed across the clouds with pirates. Honestly, I needed it just as much as the two of you did."

Mycroft went over to the door and opened it, glancing out at the celestial bodies.

"You know," Mycroft softly said, "Sometimes I think that the more you care, the more you have to lose…"

He expected the Doctor to immediately reject this and go off into a rant about how caring was one of the most important things in the universe.

Instead, he came up next to Mycroft and quietly remarked, "All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Mycroft."

He put a hand on Mycroft's shoulder and continued, "But do you know what?"

"What?"

The Doctor gave him a kind smile and said, "It's not a disadvantage."

Mycroft smiled at that and silently stared at the stars.

"It's unbelievable," Mycroft finally sighed, "Billions…trillions of stars and planets and universes are out there. How can one person possibly make a difference in…that? One person from one planet from one solar system in a never-ending universe…"

"You enjoy jigsaw puzzles, right?"

"The way I see it," the Doctor softly explained, "The universe is like one massive jigsaw puzzle. And everything…every person and alien and star and planet…is nothing more than a small piece. Billions of small pieces that make up one giant puzzle. And so you may ask, how can a single piece possibly make a difference in that puzzle? And the answer is quite simple: as far as the big picture goes, the universe would still be the universe without that one piece. But the puzzle would be incomplete."

Mycroft smiled and said, "For the record, I'm glad that the Tardis took you to the park."

"So am I."

Mycroft glanced back at the console, acknowledging the blue box, as he said, "Thanks."

The Tardis hummed and Mycroft chuckled, "I know, I know. I never have to thank you."

() () ()

The Weeping Angels were coming towards them. They wordlessly screamed as they reached for Sherlock.

The youngest Holmes brother woke with a start. He glanced around the room, his cheeks flaming as he realized that he had had a nightmare.

Sherlock let out a sigh of relief when he realized that Mycroft was still asleep. He crept into the console room, wearily glancing around. The Doctor wasn't there.

The Tardis prepared him a cup of tea which he thankfully accepted. He took a sip and suddenly heard a soft whining noise. It sounded like a dog that was running in its sleep.

Sherlock whirled around, confused. He then hung upside down and saw that the Doctor was in his hammock, in the midst of a nightmare.

"Doctor, Doctor!" Sherlock cried, "Hey! Wake up!"

The Doctor remained asleep, his face writhed with pain.

Sherlock glanced up at the ceiling and politely asked, "A little help, please?"

The top hook of the hammock suddenly snapped and the Doctor's head came crashing down. He woke with a start and rubbed the forming bump on his head, shouting, "Blimey."

"Well, that's not exactly what I meant," Sherlock murmured, "But thanks. Doctor, are you alright?"

"Other than the concussion," the Doctor joked, leaping to his feet, "You okay?"

"Had a nightmare," Sherlock admitted, "Apparently, I'm not the only one. Tea?"

The two sipped in silence for a while before Sherlock suddenly burst out, "Why did you pick us as your companions?"

The Doctor gave a start and exclaimed, "Why wouldn't I? You two are—"

"Yes, I know," Sherlock furiously said, "We're brilliant. But the thing is…we're not."

The Doctor looked shocked and Sherlock continued, "You're a Time Lord. You have two hearts and twenty-seven brains and you have amazing hearing and you can speak thousands of languages! You can travel through time and space and regenerate! You can see moments in time before they even happen! You're married to a Half-Time Lady and you're friends with an immortal man! You've had companions who were paradoxes and could bend the fabrics of the universe to come back. You've had companions who have broken the walls of time to travel back and forth between this universe and an alternate one. We're just humans, Doctor. We're not part of a paradox. We haven't shaped the entire universe. And maybe we _do_ do something brilliant in the future but I honestly don't see how it can be greater than anything that you've seen before! We're not special. We're not extraordinary. We're not brilliant!"

"Hey, hey, hey," the Doctor gently said, grabbing Sherlock's shoulders, "Don't even say that, Sherlock. You _are_ brilliant."

"No we're not!"

"Yes, you are."

"No we're n—"

"Sherlock, listen to me," the Doctor quietly said, "You're right about one thing. You and your brother are humans. Nothing more. You aren't part of a paradox and you aren't at the core of the universe and you don't have Time Lord Characteristics and you aren't going to be immortal. Sorry. You are and will always be a human…!"

"Is this supposed to be helping?" Sherlock asked, crossing his arms.

"Yes," the Doctor exasperatedly said, "Because you have still done amazing things. You have still been amazing. You have solved mysteries and you have taken down a supercomputer and you have defeated Weeping Angels and you have defeated Daleks and you have befriended aliens and you have stood by me as my companion and have proven just what it means to be human."

His voice was escalating with each incredible accomplishment, "Sherlock Holmes, you are a human. You have one heart and one brain and one life. And so far, you've experienced eight years of that life and so far, you have been brilliant! The fact that humans don't need to be a mystery to be brilliant is, in itself, brilliant. And you're always surprising me. You and Mycroft are both always surprising me. Because even though you're only _human_, you face thousands of challenges with adversity! You stand by my side and stare into the universe, eager for another adventure! You get excited, you get scared, you get angry, you laugh, you cry, you feel emotions that many other species cannot comprehend! Humans are brilliant and as far as humans go, you two are brilliant humans."

The Doctor finally stopped, catching his breath.

Sherlock was rendered speechless by his fierce rant.

"Wow," he whispered, "Thanks, Doctor."

The Doctor grinned and said, "How many times do I have to say it…you two never have to thank me."

Sherlock frowned and exclaimed, "Well, I know that I don't _have_ to. But it's social obligation to thank someone when they help you."

The Doctor laughed at this and kindly said, "Alright then! I humbly accept your social obligation. Now, come along."

The two crept back into the brother's bedroom and the Doctor tucked him back in.

"Doctor? Sherlock?" Mycroft mumbled, half-asleep, "Is everything alright?"

Sherlock stiffened, not wanting to tell his brother about his nightmare.

Fortunately, the Doctor smoothly said, "Everything's fine. I had a nightmare and Sherlock was keeping me company."

Sherlock flashed the Doctor a grateful smile and the Doctor said goodnight.

Sherlock glanced up at the glass roof and his smile widened. It was hard to have nightmares when the stars were watching over him.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sherlock hated losing.

He furiously scanned the chessboard, looking for a way to save his king.

"Checkmate," Mycroft smugly remarked.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is," Mycroft laughed, "You have no way out."

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you don't."

"I do."

"You don't."

"Do."

"Don't."

The Doctor stifled a chuckle as Sherlock angrily growled.

"Checkmate," Mycroft repeated.

Sherlock grabbed the chessboard, pieces and all, and crossed over to the door. He wrenched it open and threw the game outside. The Doctor and Mycroft amusedly watched as it got lost amongst the stars.

"Chess is boring," Sherlock declared.

"Chess is boring when you lose," Mycroft corrected.

Sherlock made a face and the Doctor exclaimed, "You know, one day somebody is going to stumble across a bunch of random objects floating in the pockets of space."

"A bunch?" Sherlock scoffed, "Isn't that exaggerating?"

The Doctor looked thoughtful as he said, "Well, there were the notes from when you tried to figure out Jack's riddle—"

"It could have been a flamingo."

"That one Rubik's Cube—"

"It was broken."

"You broke it open to try and figure it out! Then there was the remote to the telly—"

"It was Mycroft's turn to pick the movie."

"The movie that Mycroft picked—"

"I had already deduced the ending."

"The Tardis manual—"

"You told me to do that!"

"Your toothbrush—"

"You saw that?"

The Doctor laughed and said, "It's only a matter of time before you try throwing one of us out. Now come along. It's time for bed."

"Where are you and River sneaking off to, tonight?" Mycroft teasingly asked.

In his grace, the Doctor managed to trip over nothing and sprawl onto the ground. The brothers smirked and helped him to his feet.

The Doctor looked both surprised and guilty as he asked, "How did you know…?"

"Because we're brilliant," Sherlock snickered, "We've known for two weeks."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor sadly said, hanging his head in shame.

"What for?" Mycroft snorted, "Spending time with your wife?"

"I'm sorry for going on adventures without you."

Mycroft shrugged and said, "I figure that it's probably better than staring at the console for eight hours, waiting for us to wake up."

"Just a bit," the Doctor sheepishly admitted.

"Still," Mycroft falsely-reprimanded, "Sneaking out after curfew to go on a date…"

"Oh, you're one to talk," the Doctor said with a smirk.

"I'm fourteen," Mycroft pointed out, mimicking his smirk, "You're twelve-hundred."

The Doctor's intelligent response was sticking out his tongue.

Mycroft laughed and said, "You know, you don't have to wait until we're asleep."

"Yeah," Sherlock pointed out, "We like River."

"Well, yes," Mycroft agreed, "But I meant, why don't you go on a date during normal hours? Normal hours for a Time Lord, that is. We wouldn't mind."

The Doctor looked worried and asked, "And leave the two of you alone? It's different when you're asleep because I don't feel as bad or have to worry as much."

"You don't have to worry," Sherlock scoffed, "We'll be fine."

He tried to smoothly lean against the console. In doing so, he managed to hit a lever and caused the lights to go out.

"Doctor!"

The Doctor clicked his Sonic, turning them back on. He gave Sherlock a kind smile.

"Thanks," Sherlock mumbled, his cheeks bright red.

"The two of you alone in my Tardis," the Doctor mumbled, "The entire universe would collapse."

"Fine," Mycroft sighed, "Why don't you see if Jack can come over?"

"Yeah!" Sherlock excitedly said.

"The three of you alone in my Tardis…" the Doctor started.

"So take the Tardis with you," Mycroft said, "We can spend the day in London."

"The three of you alone in London…"

Eventually, the Doctor said that he would think about it. They went back to the bedroom and he tucked Sherlock in. As soon as the door was closed, Sherlock asked, "Alright. Why are you so insistent that the Doctor goes on a date?"

"Contrary to your belief, Sherlock," Mycroft said with a wry smile, "Some people actually enjoy the company of others."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and said, "There's something else."

"Alright," Mycroft sighed, "He has done so much for us in the past four months. He deserves to have a day with River."

"I guess," Sherlock muttered, "Let's just hope that he doesn't run into any alien-parasites."

() () ()

"And if you click the button, it will automatically cause the Tardis to come to wherever you are," the Doctor fussed, "And this button will summon our vortex manipulators. This button calls the Tardis phone. This button calls River's phone. This button automatically syncs your vortex-manipulator to the Tardis…"

"Doctor, I've got it," Jack chuckled, glancing down at his newly-modified cellphone.

"Right," the Doctor skeptically said, "Mycroft, you take the phone."

"With pleasure," Mycroft said, snatching it and putting it into his pocket.

"Doctor, we're going to be fine," Sherlock cried, "Stop worrying."

"Come on, Sweetie," River laughed, pushing her husband into the Tardis.

Jack, Sherlock, and Mycroft waved as the Tardis disappeared.

"Alright," Jack cheerfully said, "We're in London! What do you want to do?"

"We could visit Father," Sherlock suggested.

"Yes, that sounds good," Mycroft agreed.

"I've always wanted to meet him," Jack fondly said.

The three glanced at each other before cracking up.

"Why don't we get some lunch?" Jack offered, "My treat."

"I should hope so," Mycroft chuckled, "We don't have any money."

They headed into a restaurant where Jack glanced at the waiter and said, "Hello…"

"Don't," Mycroft groaned.

"Captain…"

"Jack!" Mycroft warned.

"Harkness," Jack finished with a grin, "Lighten up, My. You're worse than the Doctor."

"Did you just call me My?"

"Yep!"

Sherlock laughed and Mycroft snapped, "What're you laughing at, Sherly?"

His brother immediately frowned.

Mycroft snickered and went up to the salad bar. A piece of pizza suddenly hit him in the back of the head.

"Ouch!" Mycroft cried, "Knock it off, Sherlock!"

He stomped back to the table and reprimanded, "That wasn't funny."

"It wasn't me," Sherlock huffed, crossing his arms.

Mycroft glanced at Jack who looked surprised and said, "It wasn't me, Mycroft."

"So a piece of pizza just flew across the restaurant to hit me?" Mycroft snapped.

Another piece hit him and Jack slowly said, "Err…"

"Pieces of pizza are flying across the restaurant to hit us," Mycroft sighed, "Yeah…that figures."

The three ducked as an entire pizza flew towards them.

"That's impossible," Sherlock cried.

"Impossible?" Jack laughed, "Impossible! You live in a blue box that travels through time and space! You're a companion to a Time Lord. YOU'RE TALKING TO AN IMMORTAL MAN!"

"He's right," Mycroft agreed, "This barely qualifies for the list of impossible things that we've seen in the past four months."

By now, the other people in the restaurant were screaming and trying to avoid the flying food.

"Amateurs," Sherlock snickered.

"Alright, what do we do?" Mycroft sharply asked.

Jack tipped over the table and they ducked down to avoid a cascade of nachos.

"Can we eat them?" Mycroft asked, curiously.

"I wouldn't," Jack calmly advised, "We need to get to the source of the food."

"Where's that?" Sherlock curiously asked.

"The kitchen," Mycroft declared, "Where else?"

They crawled to the silver doors, avoiding hopping chicken wings. They then leapt to their feet and burst through.

The three watched in awe as an assortment of food swirled around them.

Mycroft grabbed several pots and pans and they used them as shields. Some of the food still managed to hit them.

"OUCH!" Sherlock shouted, as a meatball smacked into his arm, "That just came out of the saucepan!"

"Are you alright?" Mycroft asked, before being clubbed by several ears of corn. He winced in pain; they were still dripping with boiling water.

Meanwhile, Jack was trying to fight off a long string of sausages.

"Jack," Mycroft slowly said, "Maybe we should call the Doctor?"

"No, no!" Jack cried, "I've got this."

"There's no need for him to come!" Sherlock agreed, "Besides, you said that you wanted him to have a day to himself."

"Watch it!" Mycroft cried as another piece of pizza shot towards them. The point of the pizza embedded into the wall.

"That's not good," Jack admitted.

"The food is getting stronger," Mycroft wheezed, ducking a cheesecake.

By now, the string of sausages had twisted around Jack, binding his arms to his sides.

Sherlock backed into the corner, avoiding sizzling onion rings as they shot from the fryer.

"That's it," Mycroft cried, "I'm calling him!"

He took out the phone and hit a button. The Doctor and River immediately appeared. The former was brandishing his Sonic Screwdriver and the latter was loading a blaster.

"Food," Mycroft choked as spaghetti squeezed around his neck, "Help!"

The Doctor ripped the spaghetti away as River blasted the sausage-rope away from Jack.

"We weren't even gone an hour!" River jokingly cried.

"Yeah, yeah," Jack snarled.

The Doctor dodged a hamburger and calmly said, "Any particular reason the food is trying to attack you?"

"They aren't just targeting us," Sherlock cried, ducking as several hot-pretzels whipped towards him, "They're attacking everyone in the restaurant."

The Doctor cautiously opened the double-doors. As it turns out, everyone else had been sensible enough to run away.

"At what point did we start running towards danger instead of away from it?" Mycroft mused.

"Right around the Weeping Angels," Sherlock decided.

A large pot of soup suddenly tipped over and River quickly pulled the boys away.

She blasted the pot and the Doctor asked, "Why didn't you call us sooner?"

"We didn't want to bother you!" Sherlock guiltily said.

"What," the Doctor cried, his eyes twinkling, "And have us miss out on the fun?"

He and River stood back-to-back, raising their weapons of choice.

"Ready, Sweetie?"

"Geronimo!"

() () ()

Mycroft wiped bits of pie from his hair and watched as the Doctor tended to the burn on his brother's arm. Sherlock gave him a grateful look before muttering, "Bloody meatballs."

It had taken over an hour to fight the food. Just when it looked like the food was about to overpower them, it had suddenly stopped attacking.

"I don't get it," Jack now muttered, glancing at a monitor on the Tardis as a small laser scanned the bits of food that they had collected, "It's like the food is alien."

"Exactly," the Doctor cried, "It's from the Planet Chameabia. They have food that's similar to Earth only it's all planted."

"Planted?" Sherlock asked, "Like a garden?"

"Yep," the Doctor grinned, "Every bit of food starts out as small spores. I bet that some of them managed to float through space and they ended up getting into the restaurant."

"Really?" Mycroft sighed, "That's the explanation? Alien spores that floated through space and just happened to land in the restaurant that we were at?"

"Weirder things have happened," the Doctor remarked with a shrug, "The spores got into the kitchen and planted. They would have blended in with the other food."

"Alright," Jack slowly said, "That _might_ explain everything except why the food began attacking everyone?"

"A side-effect from exposure to Earth's oxygen," the Doctor smoothly explained.

"And the reason it suddenly stopped?" Sherlock skeptically asked.

"It spoiled."

"Just go with it," River snorted, when both Sherlock and Mycroft opened their mouths.

"Fine," Mycroft sighed, "Alien spores. Why not?"

"Weirder things _have_ happened," Sherlock repeated the Doctor's remark.

"Really?" Jack snorted, "You're completely fine with that answer?"

"Yeah," Mycroft shortly said, "It's been a long four months."

"Now if you don't mind," River brightly said, "We're going to get back to our date."

"Go ahead," Mycroft reassured them.

"What are you doing anyway?" Jack asked before saying, "On second thought, I'm not sure that I want to know!"

"We're picnicking on Asgard," River explained, "Wonderful place. You can see fifty different moons."

"Oh," Mycroft happily said, "So you're finally doing Asgard?"

The Doctor nudged him and Mycroft grunted, "Right. Err…spoilers."

River laughed and said, "Now you're getting it."

The Doctor and Mycroft shared a quick look. The former quickly changed the subject by saying, "Are you sure that you'll be alright in the Tardis?"

"Sure!" Jack shrugged, "Hey, what does this button do?"

He hit it before the Doctor could reply. Fireworks shot into the air, lighting up the room.

"Don't worry," Mycroft hastily said, "We'll be fine and we won't bother you for the rest of the day!"

The Doctor still looked worried but River put her arm around his elbow and nudged her vortex manipulator. They vanished with a flash.

"Are you sure that you don't want to bother them?" Jack mischievously asked.

Mycroft merely smirked.

() () ()

"Fifty moons," the Doctor cheerfully said, "What can get better than this?"

River merely smiled and reached over, adjusting his bowtie.

Something suddenly hit the Doctor in the back of the head.

"What was that?" River asked, surprised.

"Let me see," the Doctor mumbled, picking it up and saying, "Yep…a piece of shrimp."

Three more pieces hit him and River chuckled, "Did the spores follow us?"

"Nope," the Doctor said with a wry smile, "Just my companions."

River laughed as she realized what was going on. Mycroft, Jack, and Sherlock were standing nearby. A dinner roll hit him. Then came the lobster.

"YEEEOW! IT'S STILL ALIVE!"

River cracked up as she watched the Doctor dance around, frantically trying to avoid the lobster's claws. Sherlock was on all-fours. Mycroft was smirking. Jack had his arms crossed and was trying to look reproachful, all while hiding the fact that he was shaking with laughter.

"Hey, Mycroft…" Sherlock wheezed in between spurts of laughter, "Didn't…he also throw…a pitcher of water?"

"Oh yeah," Mycroft cried, "Thanks, Sherlock!"

"Thanks, Sherlock," the Doctor growled but he still smiled and braced himself. The water drenched his clothes and plastered his hair to his forehead. River tenderly brushed it aside.

The Doctor wiped the water from his eyes and cheerfully asked, "Anything else?"

"Nope! I'm good!" Mycroft declared.

Jack hit his vortex manipulator and the three were gone.

The Doctor wrung out his bowtie and gently said, "Now, where were we…?"


	23. Chapter 23

Author's Note: I will fully admit; I did not do much research on the Museum of Natural History in London. Therefore, the security, layout, and various exhibits are fictional.

Chapter Twenty Three

"RUN! COME ON! KEEP UP, SHERLOCK! RUN!"

Sherlock, Mycroft, and the Doctor dove through the door of the Tardis. The brothers leaned against the door, trembling with adrenaline and fear.

The Doctor frantically hit a button, just as something threatened to crash through the door. Fortunately, the Tardis got away in the nick of time.

"Blimey," the Doctor gasped, "Alright…that was…fun."

"Fun?" Mycroft cried, clutching a stitch in his side, "We nearly got trampled!"

"Fine," the Doctor agreed, his chest heaving, "Not one of my better ideas."

"Taking us to prehistoric times or trying to ride a dinosaur?" Sherlock wheezed.

"Everything was going swimmingly it started chasing after us," the Doctor pointed out.

He rummaged through his pockets before saying, "Uh-oh."

"That sound is never good," Mycroft slowly said, "Coming from you. What is it?"

"I dropped my Screwdriver," the Doctor sadly said, "I dropped the Sonic."

"You're kidding me," Sherlock cried, "Can you…can you buy another one?"

"Yes, I'll just go to the nearest Sonic Screwdriver shop," the Doctor sarcastically said.

"Oi, watch the tone," Mycroft snapped, "We've spent over four months with you; it's not that daft to think that there's a bloody shop somewhere that sells your crazy devices."

The Doctor smiled at that and said, "I'm sorry. Fortunately, I don't need to go shopping. I have home delivery."

A new Sonic Screwdriver materialized on the console. It looked exactly like his old one but the Doctor seemed pleased with it nonetheless.

"Oh, you beautiful thing," the Doctor praised, affectionately rubbing the console.

Mycroft and Sherlock glanced at each other, the former finally saying, "Should we give the two of you a minute?"

The Doctor snorted and exclaimed, "Alright! Let's zap over to the Natural History museum and see what damage we caused."

"Make sure that we get there at the right time," Mycroft teased.

The Doctor made a face and hit a button.

"There," the Doctor remarked, "Twenty years into the future, just like I had originally promised."

"Twenty years," Mycroft softly said, "Blimey, that's still not easy to get used to."

"What?"

"Well," Mycroft explained, "If we go visit Father, he'd be twenty years older. All of my classmates have graduated and have gotten jobs. And it's only been four months on my end."

"Wibbly wobbly timey wimey," the Doctor reminded him, throwing the door open.

They had landed across the street from the museum. Sherlock raced towards the building and eagerly cried, "Come on, Mycroft! Hurry up!"

"I just ran from a gigantic dinosaur!" Mycroft laughed, "Give me a minute!"

The three smiled as they strolled through the amazing museum. They eagerly raced up the marble staircase, posing to look like various statues.

"This is so weird," Mycroft muttered as they went down a familiar looking corridor.

The corridor split and Mycroft said, "Oh yeah…I nearly died right here."

"Doctor, can you get déjà vu from someplace that you've been to in the future?" Sherlock asked, scanning the walls. Twenty thousand years into the future, the walls would be rubble and the corridors would be home to the Daleks.

"Yes," the Doctor quietly said, "It happens to me all the time."

The three went into the dinosaur area. Mycroft flinched when he saw a large T-Rex. Its movements and roars were pretty spot on.

"We saw that one," the Doctor said, pointing to a large skeleton of a triceratops.

"That's creepy," Mycroft murmured.

The Doctor solemnly nodded before saying, "And _that's_…not good. Not good at all."

He pointed to a display case.

"No way," Sherlock cried.

The Sonic Screwdriver was on display. It was ancient and cracked but there was no mistaken it.

"Excuse me," the Doctor cried, grabbing a nearby tour-guide, "Hi. Hello. Hi! What can you tell me about this piece?"

The man looked surprised as he said, "Well nobody knows much about it, do they? It was found near some of these fossils."

The Doctor impatiently sighed and asked, "That's it? That's all you know?"

"Until this weekend, yes!"

"This weekend?" Mycroft repeated, "Why, what's going on then?"

The guide looked frazzled at their raised voices and pulled out a brochure, "Some of the top scientists in the U.K. are going to be inspecting it."

He leaned forward and whispered, "If you ask me, I think that it's a piece of junk. But what do I know?"

He led the group of tourists away and the Doctor muttered, "Apparently not very much, if you consider this advanced piece of technology to be junk."

"This isn't good," Mycroft muttered.

"Can't you just grab it?" Sherlock asked.

"No," the Doctor muttered, scanning the room, "Too many people. Too many witnesses."

"Well, we can't let them inspect it," Mycroft muttered, "What are we going to do?"

"The only logical thing that we can do," the Doctor remarked, "We need to break into the museum."

Mycroft's jaw fell open and Sherlock's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Are you insane?" Mycroft hissed.

"Yes," the Doctor laughed, "And so is the plan. But it's just insane enough to work."

"You can just grab it…"

"Nope. We need to break in."

"We're going to break into the Museum of Natural History!" Sherlock cried.

"Sssh," the Doctor whispered, "Not so loud!"

He gently pushed the boys back through the museum and outside.

"How exactly are we going to pull this off?" Mycroft skeptically asked.

"I'm so glad that you asked," the Doctor cheerfully said as they entered the Tardis.

The Doctor led them down several corridors before finally stopping at a door. He threw it open, revealing a room that would have made James Bond proud.

"Wicked," Sherlock laughed, staring at all of the spy equipment.

The Doctor mimicked a tour-guide as he chirped, "To the left, you will find several tuxedos. These help you look suave and proper as you pull off your crime. They are also fire-retardant and waterproof. The dress shoes are soundless. Over here, we see a wonderful collection of bungee cords, handheld transceivers, binoculars and related spyglasses. We also have several lasers, including a Sonic laser. Then you have this watch which allows you to blend into the environment…"

The Doctor took an hour to go through everything.

"This is madness," Mycroft repeated his concerns, "This is the most ridiculous thing that we have ever done. Why do we even need to get the Screwdriver? You have a brand new one!"

"Humans aren't ready for that kind of technology," the Doctor kindly explained.

"And we can't just walk in and take it?" Mycroft continued.

"Of course not," Sherlock cried, "That's boring."

"Yes," Mycroft muttered, "Unlike felonies. Felonies aren't boring."

He was still protesting their actions later that night, when they suited up.

"I can't believe that I'm doing this," Mycroft hissed, "We're breaking into a museum."

"Yes, so you've said," the Doctor laughed, "Don't worry. You won't be doing the actual stealing. I've got the perfect job for you."

"What?" Mycroft suspiciously asked.

"The museum is heavily guarded," the Doctor explained, "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to get into the main surveillance room. You can control the cameras, rig the locks, deactivate the traps, etc."

Mycroft nodded, slightly relieved. The Doctor handed him a small earpiece. Mycroft put it in and the Doctor said, "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," Mycroft chuckled, "You're standing three feet away!"

"How are we going to get inside?" Sherlock asked, "Are we going to break through the window? Scale the wall?"

The Doctor snorted and pulled a lever.

The Tardis trembled for a few seconds before stopping. Mycroft opened the door. They were in a random corridor. Mycroft glanced at the Doctor and he explained, "Blind spot. The surveillance room is right down the stairs. Are you sure that you can do this?"

"Yeah," Mycroft muttered, trying to sound braver than he felt.

"Good luck," the Doctor whispered, "And above all, if you ever get into a sticky situation, just act clever."

Mycroft wearily descended the stairs and spotted a large sign: SECURITY.

"Hey, what're you doing in here?"

The room was filled with guards.

"I…I…" Mycroft stammered before playing the innocent routine, "I get left behind on the field trip."

One of the guards stood up and suspiciously said, "It's the end of August."

"Right," Mycroft slowly said, "You see…"

He grabbed an aerosol can from his pocket, pulled his blazer over his nose, and sprayed.

The guards immediately collapsed.

"Everything alright?"

The Doctor's voice buzzed in his ear.

"They're out cold," Mycroft guiltily whispered, "They…they _are_ unconscious, right?"

The Doctor laughed and said, "Yes, yes! You've got an hour before they wake back up."

Mycroft wearily crossed to the large wall of televisions and buttons. He squinted and could just make out the shadow of the Tardis.

Mycroft smirked and said, "Watch this."

He took a small joystick and pushed up. The camera pointed towards the ceiling.

The Doctor laughed and cried, "Nice!"

Mycroft went along and averted the cameras for the entire corridor.

"Well done," the Doctor whispered, "Okay. We're near the marble staircase on the second floor, but I can see evidence of laser surveillance."

"The red laser beams?" Mycroft snorted, "Those really exist?"

"Yes. Can you get rid of them?"

Mycroft glanced around and finally found the camera that was pointing to the spot. Sure enough, gray streaks ran across the stairs.

Mycroft hit a button next to the screen: DEACTIVATE.

To his delight, the gray streaks disappeared.

Mycroft quickly shot the camera towards the ceiling.

He then caught sight of another screen. A security guard was coming out of a room nearby. Mycroft hesitated and pulled a lever, shutting the door on the guard.

Meanwhile, Sherlock and the Doctor kept to the shadows. Sherlock snickered as he spotted another camera shoot towards the ceiling.

"We should be right above the display case," the Doctor explained.

"Let's cut the floor—" Sherlock suggested.

"And bungee down—" the Doctor finished.

"It would be tedious."

"And rather pointless."

"And just a bit risky."

"But certainly worth it."

"I love being your companion," Sherlock said with a smirk.

"And I love having you as a companion," the Doctor grinned, pulling out a saw.

They carefully cut through the floor.

"What's going on down there?" Mycroft asked.

"Nothing, nothing," the Doctor cheerfully said, "Would you mind deactivating the cameras around the display case?"

"What?" Mycroft cried, "But you're not there, yet."

"We took a detour!"

"Did you cut through the floor?"

"That's classified," the Doctor joked.

In the control room, Mycroft shook his head and adjusted the cameras. He also shut the doors on a few more guards.

Sherlock and the Doctor smirked and leapt through.

They bounced up and down next to the display case.

"How are you going to get the Sonic from the case?" Mycroft asked.

"I'll just use my new Sonic to open the lock," the Doctor replied and did so.

Sherlock snatched the Sonic and quickly put it into his pocket. The two then shot back through the hole.

"What?" Mycroft cried, "Why couldn't you just do that this afternoon!?"

"HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?"

Mycroft nearly leapt out of his skin. He had been so busy talking to the Doctor and his brother; he had forgotten to check the screens around the surveillance room.

A large guard was now towering over him.

"I'm an intern," Mycroft smoothly said, "I just…"

He grabbed the aerosol can and sprayed. Unfortunately, it was empty.

The guard knocked it away, his eyes flashing with fury.

"DOCTOR!" Mycroft instinctively shouted.

The guard quickly pulled a lever and red lights flashed.

"Mycroft, what's going on?"

"GERROFF ME!" Mycroft shouted as the guard grabbed his arm.

He pulled away and began to run.

"Doctor, get out of there!" Mycroft cried.

"What about the secu—?"

"The guard hit a button. Everything is compromised! GO!"

Something hit the wall next to him and Mycroft reflexively fell to the ground. He looked up and was horrified to see a bullet hole.

"He's shooting at me!" Mycroft roared, "DOCTOR! HELP!"

He skittered around a display case and the glass exploded as the guard shot again.

"DOCTOR!"

In a flash, Sherlock suddenly appeared in front of him. For a split second, his brother looked winded. His eyes then flashed as he cried, "Grab on!"

"W…what?" Mycroft spluttered.

"GRAB ON!"

Mycroft grabbed onto his brother's shoulder and Sherlock hit something on his wrist.

Mycroft blinked and they were standing next to the Tardis.

"What…how?"

The Doctor came running up the corridor, also looking confused.

"Vortex manipulator!" Sherlock proudly cried, showing off his gadget, "Jack got it for my birthday, remember? He taught me how to use it when you were visiting Mummy!"

The Doctor enthusiastically shouted, "Brilliant, you are!"

"Thanks, Sherlock," Mycroft cried.

Sherlock flushed with pride and the three ducked into the Tardis.

"Go, GO!"

"I'm going, I'M GOING!'

The Doctor hit various buttons and they were off.

"This whole running for my life thing is getting pretty old," Mycroft pointed out.

"You love it," the Doctor grinned, "Don't lie."

He straightened up and said, "Sherlock Holmes, for acting calm and logical while the two of us were running around and screaming, I would like to present you with this!"

He handed over the old Sonic Screwdriver.

"Wow," Sherlock whispered, "Thanks, Doctor."

He tenderly took the device, staring at it with awe.

"Don't mention it," the Doctor said with a gentle smile, "Besides, I won't be needing it now that I have…"

He reached into his pocket and paled.

"Doctor," Mycroft slowly said, "What's wrong?"

"Well, I…I…err…"

"What is it?" Sherlock asked.

The Doctor hesitated before saying, "I might…I…"

"What?"

"I dropped the Sonic Screwdriver when we were running!"

"You've got to be kidding me," Mycroft cried.

The Doctor gave the brothers a sheepish look.

Sherlock grinned and cried, "Next stop: Museum of Natural History!"


	24. Chapter 24

Author's Note: Yes, I guess I should clarify: As far as the Doctor-spy-guy thing, I imagined that the Doctor would _want_ to be the stealthy, sexy, spy-guy and would probably think that he is very _good_ at being the spy-guy but would miserably fail. And Sexy would be nice enough to provide him with all of this equipment. And I imagine that, even when he was sticking to the shadows, he was still tripping over his own feet and talking way too loudly to both and using tools and gadgets that are just completely unnecessary and loud and he would probably overturn a few exhibits and honestly cause more trouble than naught. Meanwhile, Sherlock would be right beside him, eager for yet another adventure, while Mycroft is stuck racing around the surveillance room, adjusting the cameras and trapping the security guards so that nobody sees the drunk giraffe try to steal his Sonic Screwdriver. And at the end of the day, the Doctor would proudly smile at how stealthy he was but we know that it was all Mycroft.

Chapter Twenty Four

The sound of the violin filled the console room. Normally, it would have been tranquil and soothing. Tonight, however, it was making Mycroft's head pound.

"Sherlock, can you give it a rest?" Mycroft snapped.

Sherlock glared at him and Mycroft gently added, "It's wonderful, really. But I'm getting a headache."

Sherlock harshly and quickly scraped the bow across the strings. It made a retched hiss.

Mycroft covered his ears and the Doctor fell to the ground, in complete agony as he shouted, "Blimey! Are you trying to kill me, Sherlock?"

"Sorry," Sherlock sheepishly said, though he still threw a smirk towards Mycroft.

Mycroft shook his head and muttered, "I'm going to bed. Thanks for the scuba-diving lessons, Doctor."

"Anytime," the Doctor cheerfully said, still twitching on the ground, "I'm still sorry about the sharks!"

"Oh, it's alright," Mycroft yawned, "I half-expected them. Goodnight."

"Night, Mycroft!"

Sherlock scraped the strings once more. The Doctor gave him a reprimanding look and the youngest Holmes brother innocently said, "What? It slipped."

Mycroft trudged into the bedroom and burrowed beneath the blankets, not bothering to change into pajamas. He couldn't get warm, not even when he asked the Doctor for a second quilt. The Time Lord looked slightly worried but Mycroft assured him that he was fine.

By the next morning, Mycroft's entire body was laced with pain. From the sounds of the coughs on the other side of the room, it was safe to say that Sherlock wasn't feeling much better.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock whined, "My head hurts!"

Mycroft spotted Sherlock's violin case. If he had less of a heart, and less of a headache, he would scrape the strings just to get back at his brother. As it was, he could barely sit up.

They heard a knock on the door and the Doctor poked his head in, "Rise and shine! We better get a move on if we want to reach Atlantis!"

"Doctor, I don't feel well," Mycroft croaked.

The Doctor was immediately at his bedside with a thermometer.

"Where'd you get the thermometer?" Mycroft chuckled.

"It's not just a thermometer," the Doctor explained, "It's a Sonic thermometer."

He scanned Mycroft's forehead and glanced at it, looking slightly worried, "102.2."

Mycroft let out a rough cough. His entire chest tightened, until he needed to cough but it came out as a hoarse gasp.

"Sorry," he managed.

"Hey, hey," the Doctor gently said, "It's okay…"

"Do you have any medicine?" Sherlock rasped, also letting out a harsh cough.

"Yes," the Doctor admitted, "But, I don't know why you're sick. I don't want to give you the wrong thing."

"Do you have any sugar?"

"Sugar?"

"To put in the medicine," Sherlock said, as if it was obvious.

The Doctor glanced at Mycroft, silently asking for an explanation.

"Have you ever seen the movie _Mary Poppins_?" Mycroft sheepishly asked.

"Yes, of course," the Doctor cheerfully said, "Julie Andrews borrowed my bag. It was bigger on the inside."

Mycroft chuckled and continued, "Mum used to always sing the song: _A Spoonful of Sugar Helps the Medicine Go Down_. She would even give us a spoonful of sugar."

Sherlock nodded and shivered, his knees curled up to his chest.

The Doctor tenderly brought over another blanket and tucked it around him.

He then reproachfully said, "Mycroft, you're not going to feel better if you stay in your wetsuit from yesterday. Here…"

He pulled a pair of pajamas from the wardrobe along with a fluffy, white, bathrobe. He pulled the same for Sherlock and modestly left while the boys changed. Mycroft had to admit; it was comfortable. Still, the mere movement of changing his clothes caused him to collapse back onto his bed. Sherlock's bathrobe was backwards but he didn't care. He also fell back onto his bed and burrowed his head beneath the pillow. The Doctor whisked back into the room, holding a stack of toast, a pot of tea, and a large pot of chicken noodle soup.

"Thanks, Doctor," Mycroft croaked, nibbling on a piece of toast.

"Sherlock," the Doctor brightly said, "Would you like something to eat?"

"No."

The grunt came from beneath the pillow.

"Come on, Sherlock," Mycroft sighed, trying to sit up, "You need to eat."

"NO!"

The Doctor amusedly raised an eyebrow and Mycroft sighed, "I'm sorry. He gets extremely cranky when he gets sick."

"_I'm not cranky!_"

"Of course not," the Doctor gently agreed, "Now, why don't you eat some toast and have some nice soup and tea? Mmmm…"

"Don't treat me like I'm a child," Sherlock angrily croaked.

"My apologies," the Doctor smoothly said, "You're absolutely right. You should be treated like an adult. Would you mind helping me fill out some tax-forms?"

Sherlock pulled his head from beneath the pillow just to glare at him. Mycroft tried to pass off a chuckle as a cough.

The Doctor used the opportunity to scan Sherlock's forehead.

"102.8."

"Sherlock," Mycroft gently said, "Please eat."

"Fine," Sherlock snapped, grabbing the bowl of soup.

The Doctor grinned and said, "That's the spirit! You two should feel much better!"

Five minutes later, the brothers were racing to different bathrooms. Mycroft launched over the toilet and his breakfast promptly resurfaced. The Doctor was by his side in an instant, gently rubbing his back.

"I'm fine," Mycroft croaked, "Can you check on Sherlock?"

He did so and Mycroft weakly leaned against the wall. He felt absolutely horrible.

He must have dozed off for several minutes. When he opened his eyes, he realized that he actually _did_ feel better. He stumbled into the console room and saw that Sherlock, River, Jack, and the Doctor were brightly sitting around the console.

"What are you guys doing here? What's going on?" Mycroft asked.

"Well, Mycroft…" the Doctor cheerfully said, "When trying to express oneself, it's frankly quite absurd, to leaf through lengthy lexicons to find the perfect word."

"What?" Mycroft spluttered, his head spinning.

The Doctor continued, "A little spontaneity keeps conversation keen, you need to find a way to say, precisely what you mean..."

Mycroft tried to find a sensible answer and could only come up with, "What?"

The Doctor took a deep breath and cried, "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Even though the sound of it is something quite atrocious! If you say it loud enough, you'll always sound precocious…"

"What?"

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!" Sherlock, Jack, and River chorused, "Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye! Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye!"

The four excitedly danced around while Mycroft stared.

"Okay," Mycroft slowly said, "I'm…I'm seriously rethinking this companion thing…"

"Mycroft," the Doctor cried, shocked, "Mycroft! MYCROFT!"

Mycroft gave a start. The Doctor was kneeling next to him, looking worried.

"W…what happened?" Mycroft croaked.

He realized that he was still leaning against the wall of the bathroom.

"You dozed off," the Doctor gently said, "Come along. Back to bed."

He scanned Mycroft's forehead and worriedly said, "Your fever is spiking."

"That would explain the weird dream," Mycroft muttered.

He stumbled back to the bedroom, stopping to check on his brother. Sherlock was asleep, though it was a very restless sleep. Unbeknownst to Mycroft, he was having a horrible dream about Weeping Angels, clowns, Daleks, and scuba diving.

"Sherlock," Mycroft whispered.

Sherlock awoke with a gasp and mumbled something incoherent.

"Ssh," Mycroft cried, "It's alright! It's just me."

"You're not going to dress up as a clown, are you?" Sherlock sleepily asked.

"Only if you promise not to sing," Mycroft remarked.

"Deal."

The Doctor glanced back and forth, looking slightly confused, before deciding that it was best not to ask. Mycroft trudged back to his own bed and quickly fell asleep. He and his brother spent the day dozing on and off, making frequent trips to the bathroom or the rubbish bin. Time whirled by in a way that they couldn't determine. The Doctor frequently checked on them; in fact, he only left to make sure that the Tardis wasn't going to crash into something.

At one point, Sherlock whispered, "Mycroft?"

"Yeah?" Mycroft weakly answered.

"Can you read me a story?"

Whenever Sherlock had been sick in the past, Mycroft would read him a story until he felt better. Today, however, Mycroft could barely lift his head.

"Not today, Sherlock."

"I'll tell you guys a story," the Doctor gently said.

Sherlock and Mycroft eagerly listened as the Doctor launched into a story about how the stars were born.

"Do pay attention, Mycroft," the Doctor reprimanded after several minutes, "You don't want to black out just yet. We're getting into the good part…"

Mycroft blinked and suddenly a woman was standing in front of him. She looked vaguely familiar.

"It's okay," the woman quickly said, "I'm a doctor."

"M…Martha?" Mycroft spluttered, recognizing her, "Martha Jones?"

"Yes," Martha crisply said, "Now hold still. I need to administer an antibiotic."

Mycroft winced as he received the shot.

"Sorry," Martha apologized, placing a bandage over the small puncture wound, "But your fever was getting out of hand."

"T…thanks," Mycroft croaked.

"Don't thank me," Martha said with a grin, "Thank the Doctor for whisking me away from my house."

She turned to the Time Lord and added, "And _you_ are going to be paying for the Tardis-shaped hole in my wall."

The Doctor laughed and said, "Martha Jones, if this helps them feel better, I'll buy you and Mickey an entire mansion."

Martha grinned and asked, "What's with the bowtie, anyway?"

"Bowties are cool," Mycroft croaked before the Doctor could say anything.

The Doctor pretended to be shocked and cried, "The fever must have reached his brain."

On the contrary, Mycroft was feeling a lot better. Looking satisfied, Martha crossed the room to Sherlock's bed.

"Whassgoingon?" Sherlock muttered, rubbing his eye.

"Hi, Sherlock," Martha brightly said, "My name's Martha Jones. I'm a doctor. How are you feeling?"

"Horrible," Sherlock groaned.

"I figured. I'm just going to give you a small shot…"

For somebody who ill and feverish, Sherlock had a pretty good reaction time as he leapt away from her and cried, "Nope. Not necessary."

The Doctor glanced back at Mycroft who said, "Yes, perhaps I should have told you…he doesn't do needles."

"It's just a small poke," Martha laughed, "Honestly, it's not that bad."

"No!"

"Sherlock," the Doctor gently said, "It will help you feel better."

Mycroft saw that Sherlock was deducing the situation and deduced it first. He leapt up and sprang across the room, shutting the door just as Sherlock made a dive towards it.

"Traitor," Sherlock crossly muttered.

"I'm not letting you wander around the Tardis with a fever," Mycroft firmly said, "What is his fever anyway?"

"103.9," the Doctor worriedly said.

"Sherlock Holmes," Mycroft ordered, "Take the medicine."

"You can't make me," Sherlock teased.

"Actually, we can," the Doctor spoke up, "But it would be unpleasant for all of us."

"I'm not getting the shot," Sherlock said, stubborn, cranky, and slightly afraid.

"I thought that the Doctor's companions were supposed to be brave," Martha cried, trying a different approach, "But I suppose that times have changed…"

"Oh, no, don't…" Mycroft groaned but it was too late.

Sherlock's glare held fire as he snapped, "Don't try reverse psychology on me. It doesn't work!"

"It doesn't," Mycroft agreed, "He can see right through it."

"Alright," the Doctor gently continued, "You must have gotten shots before. What did you do, then?"

Sherlock closed his eyes, thinking back to it, before saying, "Mummy would sing to us."

"No problem," the Doctor cheerfully said.

Without further ado, he began to sing. Mycroft braced himself for a loud and brash song but instead it was quite the opposite. The Doctor sang so gently and beautifully that an immediate calmness swept through the room. Mycroft, Sherlock, and Martha were rendered speechless by the mere tranquility of it. It wasn't a language that they recognized, but it was the gentlest song that they had ever heard. Martha glanced over and saw that Sherlock looked stunned and thoughtful. She quickly and gently administered the shot. By the time Sherlock realized what she was doing, she was already applying the bandage.

"Wow," Mycroft whispered, as the Doctor's song faded away, "Doctor, what was that?"

"A Gallifreyan lullaby," the Doctor said with a remembering smile.

"That was amazing," Martha slowly said.

"It was incredible," Sherlock agreed.

The Doctor modestly smiled and said, "Well, I'm just glad that you're feeling better. I definitely owe you one, Martha."

"Do you want to come with us to Atlantis?" Sherlock eagerly asked.

Martha thought about it before saying, "I'll pass. But thanks. Anyway, you two still need to rest and regain your strength."

"But we're not tired!" Sherlock argued.

They weren't. The brothers were now at a point between not having enough strength to run around but having just enough to not want to stay in bed all day.

By the time the Doctor got back from taking Martha home, Sherlock was slowly hitting his head against the wall and groaning, "Booooorreeed."

"We'll have an adventure tomorrow," the Doctor promised, tucking him in, "The first thing in the morning."

"I can't believe that we spent the entire day sleeping," Sherlock muttered, as if angry at himself, "And now it's already time for bed."

The Doctor laughed and gently said goodnight.

"Doctor, wait…" Mycroft and Sherlock called.

He stopped, looking surprised, but both brothers were too embarrassed to say what they wanted. Finally, Mycroft was brave enough to ask, "Can you sing again?"

The Doctor smiled and agreed. His song filled the entire Tardis; it could have filled the entire universe. He sang until the brothers were sound asleep.


	25. Chapter 25

Author's Note: Don't worry! This isn't the climactic chapter or anything! It's just another snag in their travels.

Chapter Twenty Five

"Ouch. Watch it."

"Stop shoving."

"Get off my foot."

"Get off of _mine_."

"Ssshhh!"

"Quiet!"

"GOTCHA!"

Sherlock and Mycroft both screamed as the Doctor whisked the door open. They ducked past them. The Doctor swiped for them but purposely missed. Sherlock and Mycroft raced down the random corridors, becoming hopelessly lost.

"A LITTLE HELP, PLEASE?" Sherlock shouted.

The door to the left sprang open and they entered the console room. They touched the console and shouted, "SAFE!"

They were immediately drenched by water balloons. They laughed and ducked for cover, grabbing water balloons of their own and throwing them at the Doctor.

"We were safe!" Mycroft laughed.

"Well, I already filled them up," the Doctor exclaimed.

The brothers were bombarded by more balloons. They glanced at each other before simultaneously leaping on top of the Doctor, tackling him to the ground. The Doctor put them into a gentle headlock and bombarded them with the rest of the balloons.

"Mercy, mercy!"

The three fell back, laughing.

"I love playing hide-and-seek in the Tardis," Sherlock beamed, wringing out his curls.

"So do I," Mycroft agreed.

The phone rang and Sherlock cried, "Hey, it's Jack!"

The Doctor hit the speakerphone button and cheerfully said, "What's up, Jack?"

"Doctor, we have a problem!"

The Doctor frowned and asked, "What's going on?"

They were met by a series of static.

"Jack? Jack, are you there?"

The Doctor clicked his Sonic and they heard, "D…come…down…here."

"We're on our way," the Doctor promised, hanging up the phone and pressing several buttons to trace Jack's coordinates. The Tardis took off.

"What's going on?" Sherlock asked.

"I have no idea," the Doctor muttered.

"Hang on," Mycroft slowly said, as he glanced at the coordinates, "That's our street."

Sure enough, the Tardis landed outside their house. To their surprise, a large crowd was standing outside. Police barriers had been set up, forcing the crowd to stay on the sidewalk.

Suddenly, all hell broke loose.

"There!"

"There they are!"

"Somebody, grab them!"

"No, no," Jack cried, "I said _don't_ come down here! Don't!"

He was trying to keep the crowd at bay, along with several policemen.

"Jack, what's happening?" Mycroft cried.

Sherlock nervously glanced around. Everyone seemed to be staring at them.

"Your father's been busy," Jack quietly explained.

"What?" Mycroft asked, confused.

Someone from the crowd shouted, "Kidnapper!"

"How could you do that to two innocent children?"

"Somebody seize him!"

"Arrest him!"

"Oh no," the Doctor mumbled, "Not good."

"Not good at all," Jack agreed, "Mr. Holmes has been going to the police for a month, complaining that you took his sons away. They didn't believe him so he turned to the public…"

"Maybe we should go back inside the Tardis…?" Mycroft anxiously asked.

"You two aren't going anywhere!"

Mr. Holmes stepped out of the crowd, in one of his best suits.

"Father, what are you playing at?" Mycroft cried, "You knew that we were going with the Doctor. And we went on our own accord."

"I forbade you to go!" Mr. Holmes pointed out.

"We didn't listen," Mycroft coolly said, "That doesn't mean that the Doctor kidnapped us! Besides, it's not as though he kept us from you. We even stopped by for your birthday!"

"And then he locked me in my study and took you back!" Mr. Holmes cried.

"We got you out," the Doctor spoke up, "Eventually."

"To be fair," Mycroft added, "We would have come back sooner, but we ended up getting sidetracked by an alien-parasite."

"You see!" Mr. Holmes shouted, "He's putting you in danger!"

"He didn't put me in danger," Mycroft argued, "I acted like an idiot and put myself in danger. The Doctor showed up to save me and pelt me with shrimp."

"And a lobster," the Doctor added, "But that's beside the point."

"Besides," Mycroft continued, though he grinned at the Doctor's statement, "We've been gone for four and a half months! Why are you just doing this now?"

"I thought that you would come to your senses," Mr. Holmes snapped, "I thought that this was just a phase and that it would thin out. When I realized that you two had been blinded and corrupted by this man, I decided to take action."

Meanwhile, Sherlock was silently observing the situation. He didn't completely understand what was going on. Everyone was angry at the Doctor. The Doctor and Mycroft were angry at his father. Jack was also shooting Mr. Holmes dirty looks, though he was more focused on keeping the crowd away from Sherlock and Mycroft. The tension was certainly thick and saying the wrong thing might lead to trouble. So for once in his life, Sherlock actually kept quiet.

"All I want is for my sons to be safe!" Mr. Holmes dramatically cried.

"Oh, come off it," Mycroft angrily snapped, "That's not the reason that you did all of this. This is nothing more than a publicity stunt. Albeit a very foolish one. Do you honestly think that people will buy more stocks if you tell them that an alien kidnapped your sons?"

"How dare you use that tone of voice with me?" Mr. Holmes barked.

"What are you going to do?" Sherlock challenged, before he could stop himself, "Send us to the nursery without dinner?"

The Doctor snorted and Mycroft gave his brother an impressed look.

Sherlock triumphantly grinned at the look on his father's face. Mr. Holmes started forward but Jack curtly escorted him back.

"This is preposterous," Mr. Holmes spluttered, "Arrest that man."

An officer suddenly grabbed the Doctor and handcuffed him, "You are under arrest for kidnapping and the endangering of children. You have the right to remain silent…"

"Hey, leave him alone," Jack cried, "He didn't do anything wrong. This is a mistake…"

"What's going on?" Sherlock roared.

"Doctor!" Mycroft shouted.

The brothers started forward but several policemen held them back, assuring them that everything was going to be alright.

"Don't touch them," the Doctor shouted, as he was pushed into a response car.

"Leave them alone!" Jack simultaneously cried, "Mycroft, Sherlock!"

He tried to get to them but was restrained by the other officers.

"It's alright, dears!"

A tall woman was strolling towards them, flashing her own police badge.

"We're going to keep you safe," the woman flashed him a smile, "Why don't you get into the car and we can take you away from this mess?"

"What?" Mycroft cried, "No! We're not going with you! DOCTOR, JACK!"

He and Sherlock watched, horrified, as the Doctor was whisked away. He banged against the back window, yelling for them.

"Jack, where is she taking us?" Sherlock bellowed.

"Don't worry!" Jack shouted, "Don't worry! Boys, everything's going to be alright!"

"JACK! _JACK_!"

Then they were gently but firmly pushed into the backseat of a car. It wasn't a response car; it looked as though it belonged to a grandmother. Crumbs were scattered on the seat and several stuffed animals were stowed into a small basket. The woman was driving, occasionally casting them kind smiles over her shoulder.

Mycroft and Sherlock frantically looked around, the latter screaming, "Help! We're being kidnapped!"

"No, no, sweetie," the woman gently said, "Not anymore."

The sheer idiocy of her sentence caused Sherlock to stop yelling and stare at the back of her head, as if hoping to see how small her brain really was.

"You're mad!" Mycroft cried, "The Doctor wasn't kidnapping us!"

"Where are you taking us?" Sherlock frantically asked.

She didn't answer.

"Who are you? What's going on?" Mycroft demanded, though his voice cracked.

"Ssh. My name is Melissa Jefferson. I'm here to help."

It seemed as though that was her actual intention. She was kind enough, even if she was dead-wrong. Mycroft closed his eyes and saw the Doctor's face peering at them from the response car and Jack fighting against the officers. He took a few calming breaths and Sherlock imitated him. Mycroft opened his eyes and glanced over, trying to remain calm. He pulled the seatbelt over his brother, latching it into place.

Sherlock glared daggers at him and hissed, "We're being taken away by a stranger and your biggest priority is a seatbelt?"

"Better that we arrive in one-piece," Mycroft remarked, putting his own on.

"Where are we going?" Sherlock whispered.

Mycroft hesitated before saying, "Do you remember when my class went on the field-trip to that home for children who didn't have anywhere else to go?"

"Yes," Sherlock said, his eyes still shining with confusion, "But why would they take us there? We have places where we can go. Preferably, the Tardis."

Mycroft put a hand on his brother's arm and said, "Right now, we can't go back to the Tardis. I want to, Sherlock. I really do. But we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because Father told those people that the Doctor kidnapped us," Mycroft softly said.

"But he didn't!" Sherlock argued.

"But that's what they believe," Mycroft pressed, "So until the Doctor is proven innocent, we need to go with this woman."

"But I don't want to go to a children's home!" Sherlock argued.

"Sherlock," Mycroft's voice had an edge now, "We don't have a choice."

"Are they going to split us up?" Sherlock asked, now wildly thinking of everything he had heard about children's homes.

"We're not being adopted, Sherlock," Mycroft scoffed, "They're just holding us there until everything is cleared up."

He said the last part hopefully, though his mind swarmed with doubt.

"Then why can't they hold us in our own house?" Sherlock pressed.

"I don't know."

"But Mycroft…"

"Sherlock, I don't want to go any more than you do," Mycroft snapped, "But right now, we don't really have a choice. And nothing you say is going to make this woman change her mind; so you might as well just keep quiet. Alright?"

Sherlock looked hurt at the outburst and Mycroft immediately regretted it. After all, it wasn't Sherlock's fault. He simply didn't understand what was going on. Mycroft really didn't understand either but he knew that he needed to keep calm.

"Listen," Mycroft finally said, "This is the Doctor we're talking about. The Doctor! He's going to get us out of this."

Sherlock nodded, seemingly content with that answer, and added, "He always does."


	26. Chapter 26

Author's Note: Sorry for the small delay. Although, it occurred to me: Imagine if circumstances caused me to no longer finish the story. Sherlock and Mycroft would be on their way to a children's home. Jack would be screaming and fighting against several officers. Our funny man with the bowtie would be on his way to jail. Mr. Holmes would be triumphant. Well, we can't have that, now can we?

Chapter Twenty Six

Sherlock was tired but he couldn't risk closing his eyes. An infant was wailing on the other side of the room. Sherlock growled out in frustration. Couldn't anybody do something?

The boys had been taken to a large stone building, which had reminded Sherlock of a hospital. Instead of individual rooms, however, there were two large wings with beds and bunks lined up along the walls. One wing was for younger children and the other was for teenagers.

Sherlock and Mycroft had stayed together until bedtime. His brother had assured him that everything was going to be fine, before entering his own wing. To Sherlock's horror, the door to both wings had been locked. The matron explained that it was to keep runaways from running. It was as if she knew what Sherlock had been thinking. The infant's crying pierced the air. Several other boys hissed and groaned. It was crying and nobody was doing anything.

Sherlock finally stood up and crossed to the cot. He had to stand on his tiptoes to see the wailing infant. Sherlock tried to think of everything that Mycroft would do.

"Hey," Sherlock hissed, "It's quite rude to interrupt a person's sleep."

The infant continued to cry and Sherlock murmured, "Oh hush! I don't want to be here anymore than you do. You don't hear _me_ crying."

He wanted to. His throat ached with the longing to cry. But he didn't. So if he could resist the urge to cry, surely this infant could. And yet, Sherlock understood.

"I know," Sherlock murmured, "I want to go home, too. Not my house. That place is boring. Back to the Tardis. Back to the universe."

That gave him an idea. Thinking like Mycroft wasn't getting him anywhere. Why not think like the Doctor? What would the Doctor do?

Sherlock leaned forward and whispered, "I want to open my eyes and see the stars unfold before me. You would like them; the stars. They're nothing like the smoggy dots outside. You don't know what you're missing. Dark blues and light blues and different shades of purple and green and yellow and pink and red and orange. All of the colors swirled together to make one large universe. That's where I belong."

The infant had stopped and was staring at him with an intense curiosity.

"I belong with the Doctor," Sherlock continued, "You'd like _him_, too. He's a funny man with a bowtie. Only, he's so much more than that. He's a Time Lord. Last of his kind. The protector of the universe. He protects those stars."

The infant was now peacefully sleeping. Sherlock gave it a lopsided smile.

Now that the room was silent, Sherlock was able to deduce everything. The matron who was in charge of watching over them had snuck outside. Judging by her stained teeth and fingernails, Sherlock supposed that she was a secret smoker. She had a small office, which was now unsupervised. Sherlock raced in and spotted a telephone. He remembered the number that had popped up on the Caller ID yesterday. He quickly punched it in.

"Hello?"

"J…Jack?" Sherlock managed.

"Sherlock," Jack's voice was gentle and calm, "Where did they take you?"

"I'm…I'm in a building," Sherlock stammered.

"Can you be a bit more specific?" Jack patiently asked.

Sherlock composed himself before explaining, "It's a children's home."

As if on cue, another infant began to wail.

"I hate it here, Jack," Sherlock burst out, "There's children everywhere."

"That tends to be the definition of a children's home," Jack said, almost teasingly.

Sherlock hoped that Jack could hear the sourness in his voice as he snapped, "The pyjamas are scratchy and the bed is lumpy and there are infants crying and the potato soup was disgusting and I _don't want to be here_!"

"Alright," Jack soothingly said, "Take it easy, Sherlock. At least you're safe."

"Safe?" Sherlock repeated, horrified.

"Where's Mycroft?" Jack calmly continued.

Sherlock frowned. How could Jack be so calm, when Sherlock felt like screaming at the top of his lungs? He took a deep breath and whispered, "He's in the other wing—the one for teenagers, b… but the door is locked and…I…I don't have the key. Jack, where are you? Can't you come and get us?"

"River and I are both at the police-station," Jack hesitantly explained. Sherlock drew a sharp breath and Jack quickly continued, "Hey; it's okay. We're in the lobby. The Doctor is being held in one of the cells."

"But he didn't do anything wrong!" Sherlock cried.

"I know," Jack quickly agreed.

"So break him out," Sherlock pleaded, his voice cracking, "Have River blast the guards and use your vortex-manipulators to come get us."

"Ah…Sherlock," River's voice now, "You don't know how much I want to."

"But it would only make things worse," Jack sadly finished, "You said it yourself: the Doctor didn't do anything wrong. Breaking out of prison and breaking two children out of a children's home might constitute as doing something wrong."

"I guess," Sherlock mumbled, though he still thought that it would be worth it.

"Fortunately," Jack continued, "We know people. A lot of people. We managed to get the court-date jumped up to tomorrow morning."

"Court-date?" Sherlock repeated, "There's going to be a trial?"

"Sort of," Jack hesitantly said, "Don't worry; it's going to be quick."

"And then," River spoke up, "The five of us can get back to the Tardis."

"Where _is_ the Tardis?" Sherlock asked.

"Sitting right next to us," River brightly said.

Sherlock strained and could make out the familiar sound of the humming, "You brought the Tardis into the police-station?"

"I was insistent," River explained.

Sherlock nearly smiled at the thought of River insisting on something.

"Now," Jack gently said, "Go find Mycroft and then try to get some sleep. It is way past your bedtime."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the last statement and muttered, "I told you…the door is locked and I don't know where the key is!"

"I didn't think that a locked door could stop Sherlock Holmes," River cried, as if amused by the thought.

Sherlock finally smiled and said, "Alright. I'll try."

"Don't worry," Jack repeated, "We'll see you tomorrow."

"And what happens if something goes wrong?" Sherlock challenged, in a smaller voice than he had hoped, "What if…"

"If anything goes wrong," River promptly said, "Then I promise that I will blast every single person in London until we can get to the two of you. Alright?"

"Alright," Sherlock said, slightly relieved by the narcissistic promise, "Is the Doctor allowed to have a phone-call?"

"Sorry, no," Jack sadly said.

"Oh," Sherlock sighed before asking, "Can you tell him that I said goodnight?"

"Well, I'm not sure that…"

"GOODNIGHT SHERLOCK! TELL MYCROFT THAT I SAID GOODNIGHT!"

Sherlock finally managed to laugh. Good old Time Lord hearing.

"Goodnight, Sherlock," Jack chuckled, "Sleep tight."

"Don't let the alien parasites bite," River teased.

Sherlock glumly hung up. He glanced around to ensure that the other children were asleep before looking up at a vent in the ceiling. It was above a spare bunk. Sherlock bounded up the ladder, fighting the fear of falling, and pulled the grate aside. He slipped through the dusty vent and began to crawl. At long last, he carefully pulled aside another grate. Unfortunately, this grate was not above a bunk. Sherlock squinted and could see Mycroft sitting up in his bed.

"Mycroft," Sherlock whispered, "Mycroft!"

Mycroft looked up and calmly said, "Hullo, Sherlock. What took you so long?"

Sherlock frowned and hissed, "Get me down!"

Mycroft crept over and Sherlock leapt into his arms. He hugged Sherlock, who pulled away and gave his brother an annoyed look.

"My apologies," Mycroft smoothly said, "It seemed like the proper thing to do."

The two crossed over to his bed, ignoring the angry hisses from the other boys.

"I called Jack and River," Sherlock quickly whispered.

Mycroft looked relieved and said, "Where are they? Are they alright?"

"They're in jail," Sherlock said with a snort, "Or at least at the jail. The Doctor is being held and they're waiting in the lobby. They said that we're going to go to a trial?"

"When?" Mycroft worriedly asked.

"In the morning," Sherlock said.

"Wow," Mycroft remarked, slightly impressed, "I guess the two of them really do have connections with high people. Did you talk to the Doctor?"

"No," Sherlock sighed, before wryly smiling and adding, "But he screamed goodnight."

Mycroft laughed and Sherlock continued, "River and Jack sounded so…calm. It's like they didn't even care."

"Sherlock," Mycroft sighed, "It's not that they don't care. They were probably freaking out. But I bet they made themselves calmer so that you could stay calm. I do it all the time."

"Really?" Sherlock looked perplexed, "For how long?"

"Mm," Mycroft pretended to think about it before saying, "Around eight years."

"Oh," Sherlock mumbled.

The two brothers sat in silence for a good period of time.

Finally, Sherlock whispered, "Mycroft?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared."

Mycroft reached over and put an arm around Sherlock's shoulders. He tensed before finally accepting the embrace and leaning against Mycroft.

Mycroft glanced out the window, towards the smoggy stars, and muttered, "So am I."

() () ()

"Time to wake up, dears."

Mycroft and Sherlock both gave a start. They were still sitting upright, Mycroft's arm still protectively wrapped around Sherlock's shoulders. They had barely gotten to sleep and now they were blinking up at a kind matron.

Mycroft and Sherlock realized that they had been caught. The former guiltily said, "I'm sorry; this is my brother. He just wanted to…"

The matron smiled and whispered, "It's alright. I completely understand."

"What time is it?" Mycroft murmured, realizing that the others were still sleeping.

"A quarter past five," she kindly explained, "I have taken the liberty of picking out clothes for you to wear. You're due downstairs in fifteen minutes."

Mycroft and Sherlock washed up in the bathroom sink and put on the nice suits. Sherlock fumbled with his tie until he nearly suffocated himself. Mycroft helped him and Sherlock angrily muttered, "I wish that we had bowties."

"That would cheer the Doctor up," Mycroft agreed.

They then anxiously descended the stairs. The kind matron was nice enough to wish them luck and handed them a stack of toast wrapped in a napkin. She then led them outside where a cab was waiting. The ride to the courthouse was a quick and silent one. An officer met them and curtly led them inside.

"I don't understand," Sherlock whispered, falling into step next to his brother. He began subconsciously mimicking Mycroft's every movements; the adjustment of his tie, the scratch of his ear, the fumble over the rug, "Why are we here?"

"Sherlock," Mycroft hissed, "I'm sick of explaining this."

"Well, I'm not sick of hearing it," Sherlock retorted, "So explain why we're here! The Doctor didn't kidnap us!"

His words rang through the entire corridor.

"Brilliant," Mycroft whispered, "Say it a bit louder. Maybe the judge will believe you."

Sherlock stopped and through gritted teeth asked, "Why…are…we…here?"

"Why do you keep asking that?"

"BECAUSE I DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Sherlock bellowed.

"Has anyone ever told you that volume of your voice follows an irregular pattern when you're upset?" Mycroft teased.

"What irregular pattern?" Sherlock hissed as they hurried to catch up with the officer.

"Precisely," Mycroft curtly said, "Now, behave."

"You behave," Sherlock muttered.

"I asked you first."

"I asked you second.

"Sherlock."

"Mycroft!"

Mycroft sighed and Sherlock smugly said, "Oh, you knew that was coming!"

Once again, he stopped walking, frustrated to no end. The officer continued walking, too tired and careless to realize that the boys were no longer following.

"Wrong," he whispered, "Wrong, wrong, wrong…"

"I'm really going to regret this," Mycroft groaned, "Why are you repeatedly whispering the word 'wrong'?"

"Because they're wrong!" Sherlock cried.

"Who is wrong?"

"Everyone! Father's wrong and the officers who arrested the Doctor are wrong and the matrons at the children's house are wrong! Wrong, WRONG, _**WRONG**_!"

He rapidly spun around as he said the last three words. Mycroft gave him a reprimanding look but deep down, he knew why Sherlock was so upset; why he was so confused. Sherlock couldn't understand how anybody could be that wrong. He couldn't understand how anybody could confuse the Doctor for a ruthless kidnapper and their father for a sainted parent. They were wrong. They were all wrong and Sherlock couldn't understand why nobody else saw that. Sherlock certainly didn't live in a world that was black and white—in fact, he was smart enough to deduce just about every shade of silver and gray between black and white—but he still didn't know why the brothers had to go through all of this for no reason. They were wrong. Wrong. And that was enough to irritate, confuse, and frighten Sherlock. The fact that they could face such a serious consequence because somebody was wrong…

Sherlock continued to rapidly spin around and Mycroft sharply said, "Sherlock, knock it off. You're going to make yourself sick."

Sherlock completely ignored him. A blast suddenly hit the rug near his feet. Sherlock yelped out and leapt back. Mycroft caught him, also shocked.

"Sorry," River brightly said, coming up the corridor, "You were unraveling."

"River!"

"River!"

The boys were both embarrassed by their exciting outbursts, but it was a relief to see her.

She gave them a gentle smile and pocketed her blaster.

"You brought a blaster into a courthouse?" Mycroft asked.

"Turn me in," River said with a shrug, "You can attend my trial after we sit through my husband's."

Mycroft and Sherlock both smiled at that.

"Where's Jack?" Sherlock curiously asked.

"I don't know," River sighed, "He had his 'don't-worry-River-I've-got-this' look which either means that he's going to save us all or the universe is going to collapse."

Although she remained nonchalant, River stayed by their side, even when they entered the courtroom. The three sat on the very first spectator bench. Mr. Holmes was standing at the prosecutor's table, wearing his best suit. The Doctor was squirming around at the defendant's table, sporting an orange jumpsuit. Both were defending themselves.

"Doctor!" Sherlock spoke up.

"Ssh," River quickly whispered but the bailiff still heard.

He gave Sherlock a putrid smile and said, "Well, well…we don't want to cause a mistrial now, do we?"

Sherlock glared at him and the Doctor sadly stared forward.

He then hesitated before whispering, "One."

Mycroft, Sherlock, and River glanced at each other, confused.

"One. Two. Three."

They were still confused.

"Five."

Sherlock's face broke out into a smile as he understood. Mycroft couldn't believe that he had remembered. Well, of course had had. He was, after all, the Doctor.

The Doctor softly continued, "8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144…"

"Hey," the bailiff snapped, "What're you doing?"

"Counting," the Doctor innocently said.

The bailiff suspiciously frowned before saying, "Please state your name for the records."

"The Doctor."

The bailiff was not impressed and snapped, "Your _real_ name."

"The Doctor."

"State your first and last name!"

"First name: The. Last name: Doctor!"

The bailiff gave him a nasty look before drawling, "All rise. The Honorable Judge Harkness presiding."

"The Honorable _Captain_ Judge…Jack…Harkness," Jack corrected, taking his place as the others took their seats, "There's a Captain in there somewhere!"

"What?" Mycroft's jaw fell open and he whispered, "When did Jack become a judge?"

Jack looked offended at the remark and cried, "I'll have you know that I am one of the most esteemed judges in Europe!"

He showed his psychic paper and winked. Mycroft stifled a chuckle.

"The better question is," Sherlock whispered, "Why is he wearing a powdered-wig?"

"Powdered-wigs are cool," the Doctor exclaimed, hearing the boys' conversation.

They snickered and Jack lightly said, "Here, Doctor."

He took off his wig and tossed it over. The Doctor fondly put it on. It was immediately blasted off, courtesy of River.

"Oi," Jack banged his gavel and tried to pass off a stern demeanor as he said, "One more blast like that and I'm throwing you out of my courtroom."

She laughed and teased, "I'd like to see you try."

"So would I," Sherlock, Mycroft, and the Doctor both muttered.

The Doctor then glanced at the charred wig and whined, "One day you're going to end up blasting the bowtie off."

"Wouldn't be the first time that I blasted your clothes off," River teased.

"Whoa," Mycroft cried, fighting back several visions, "Did not need to hear that."

"Why?" Sherlock asked, confused, "What does that mean?"

"Anyway," the Doctor loudly cried, his cheeks red.

"No, I think that I'm going to allow this," Jack mused, "Continue, River. With as many explicit details as possible…"

"You wish," River said with a smirk.

"CAN WE PLEASE GET A MOVE ON?" Mr. Holmes shouted.

"Spoilsport," Jack muttered, "In the case of Mr. Holmes verses The Doctor, I find in favor of the defendant."

"What?" Mr. Holmes shouted, "You can't do that!"

"I just did."

"Your Honor," Mr. Holmes spluttered, "This is…this is outrageous! Can you please hear the evidence?"

Jack muttered something quite rude and then said, "Strike that from the record."

He glanced at the court reporter and boldly added, "Well, hello…"

"No!" Mycroft warned.

The Doctor also shouted, "Jack, this is serious!"

"Don't make me blast you," River warned.

"JudgeCaptainJackHarknes," Jack finished in one breath.

"Can _I_ blast him?" Mycroft wearily sighed.

"Absolutely not!" River cried, shocked, "You're a minor! And there are far too many witnesses here. Wait until we get back to the Tardis, alright?"

"Deal," Mycroft grinned.

The next hour was a tedious one. Sherlock and Mycroft eventually dozed off. After all, the two had barely gotten any sleep last night. They only jolted awake when Mr. Holmes screamed, "I never gave you consent to take my boys away!"

"No," the Doctor quietly said, "But your wife did."

Mr. Holmes' eyes widened and he cried, "That's impossible. My wife is dead."

"And I'm a Time Lord," the Doctor slowly said, "With a box that conveniently allows me to go back to a time when she wasn't dead."

"Time Lord," Mr. Holmes spluttered, "Your Honor, do you believe this nonsense?"

"Every word," Jack replied.

"I have proof," the Doctor continued, "It's right in the pocket of my coat."

The bailiff started forward and Jack quickly said, "Just bring me the coat. I will personally retrieve it."

The bailiff shrugged and complied. Jack tried to smoothly reach into the pocket. His entire arm disappeared as he tried to feel around for the paper. The Doctor gave him a guilty look and Jack finally pulled out the piece of paper and read it aloud:

"I, Mrs. Elizabeth Holmes hereby give my sons, Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes, full permission to join the Doctor in his travels. During that time, the Doctor shall be responsible for my children, acting as an unofficial legal guardian."

Their mother's signature was at the bottom.

Mycroft suddenly remembered a conversation that he had once had with his father, several years ago. He had been wondering what would happen to him and his brother, should anything ever happen to Mr. Holmes. It seemed a bit ironic that, at the time, Mycroft had been afraid that he and Sherlock would wind up in a children's home.

"Oh, your mother assigned somebody to look after you," Mr. Holmes had absentmindedly remarked, "A doctor of some sorts."

Mycroft now laughed as he realized what this meant.

"Is it good?" Sherlock anxiously asked.

"It's very good, Sherlock," Jack said with a smile, "That's all the proof that I need to say that the Doctor did not kidnap the two of you."

Mr. Holmes looked horrified and cried, "No! NO! That's fake! He's never met my wife!"

"I have," the Doctor calmly said, "She's a wonderful woman."

"When?" Mr. Holmes challenged, "When did you meet her?"

The Doctor smartly told him the date and Mr. Holmes boomed, "Aha! Liar! You couldn't have met her on that day! She was in the hospital! She…hang on…that's the day that she…"

Mr. Holmes trailed off and Mycroft quietly spoke up, "Once again, the Doctor was there when you weren't."

"You can't talk to him," the bailiff spoke up.

"No, I'm going to allow this," Jack thoughtfully spoke up, "But do refrain from throwing any punches, Mycroft. Let somebody else have a chance this time."

Mycroft smirked at that and realized that he probably was third or fourth in line when it came to wanting to punch Mr. Holmes.

"What…what are you talking about?" Mr. Holmes snapped, completely ignoring Jack and now looking confused and slightly afraid.

"The Doctor was there when you weren't," Mycroft repeated, "A few weeks ago, I asked the Doctor to take me back so that I could be with Mum when she…"

A memory of Mrs. Holmes in the hospital bed resurfaced. And since the Doctor couldn't put a hand on Mycroft's shoulder, River surprisingly did it for him.

"That's impossible! You couldn't have been there!"

Mr. Holmes suddenly looked extremely thoughtful as he turned back to the Doctor.

Perhaps he was remembering the funny man in the bowtie who had to sadly give him the news that his wife had passed. Perhaps he was remembering the smell of the crisps or the fact that one of the nurses commented on the visitors that his wife had had.

He slowly raised his hand to his jaw and whispered, "It…it wasn't a dream…"

Mycroft's eyes widened as he realized what he had just admitted.

"Yeah," River whispered, "Not good."

A fierce fury light up Mr. Holmes eyes as he glanced at Mycroft, "You… it wasn't a dream…you punched me…_you_…"

He leapt forward and River instinctively positioned herself in front of the boys, readying her blaster. Jack leapt right over the judge's stand but the Doctor got to Mr. Holmes first. He grabbed the man and for a split second, Sherlock and Mycroft could see the fiery hate in the Time Lord's eyes. The Doctor could be one of the kindest beings in the universe and he could usually show a good amount of restraint; unless children were being threatened.

The fury of the universe seemed to be unleashed in the Doctor's eyes and that both terrified and amazed the two brothers. They were reminded of the first time that Mr. Holmes met the Doctor. Their father had yelled at Sherlock to look him in the eye. The Doctor had furiously remarked that if Mr. Holmes had wanted to look somebody in the eye, why not look into the Doctor's eyes? And right now, Mr. Holmes gazed into the Doctor's eyes. And he didn't like what he was seeing. He staggered backwards, giving River the perfect opportunity to pull the trigger and blast him onto his back.

"If you ever threaten Sherlock and Mycroft again," the Doctor warned but he was too furious to even finish his threat.

"That's…assault," Mr. Holmes spluttered, "Assault!"

"I saw self defence," Jack lightly said, "What about you, bailiff?"

"Yesssir," the bailiff surprisingly said, "He was just protecting those boys."

Jack cheerfully went back over to the stand and said, "I am hereby dropping all of the charges on the Doctor and reinstating that Sherlock and Mycroft can travel with him."

He leaned over to the court reporter, "And I'm picking you up in two hours for dinner."

She flushed but said, "I'm married!"

"And I'm Captain Jack Harkness," Jack said with a grin, "Judge Captain Jack Harkness."

He banged the gavel and suddenly the Doctor was pulling Sherlock and Mycroft into a tight hug, which they happily returned. It turned into a clumsy group hug as River and Jack joined in.

"Ooh, that reminds me!" Jack cried, grabbing his cellphone, "Doctor, I believe that _this_ belongs to you!"

He pushed a button and suddenly the Tardis crashed through the wall, landing besides them. Sherlock and Mycroft beamed up at the box. Mr. Holmes' jaw dropped.

"Yeah," Sherlock smugly said, "It wasn't a dream."

The Doctor laughed and brought Sherlock up onto his shoulders, draping his other arm around Mycroft's shoulders.

"T…t…that's…impossible," Mr. Holmes whispered.

"Not as impossible as this," Sherlock said, snapping her fingers. To his delight, the door sprang open, revealing the inside. Mr. Holmes kept spluttering something quite unintelligent.

The bailiff finally managed to stutter, "S…y…you're…you're…a…f.f..f…family?"

"Yeah," Sherlock thoughtfully said, "I suppose we are."

Mycroft also looked thoughtful as he said, "After all, we've got the mother-figure, the father-figure, the children, a Tardis…"

The Doctor smiled at that and asked, "Who can ask for a better home?"

"…we even have a weird, perverted, uncle who pops in uninvited!"

He gestured to Jack who grinned, perfectly content with that title.

The Doctor laughed and teasingly said, "Come on. Let's go home."


	27. Chapter 27

Author's Note: Thank you for the overwhelming reviews on the last chapter! They mean a lot. And since I rarely ever get suggestions (even though I'd be more than happy to take them), I felt compelled to answer the comment from Guest:

_I think what would be great for this…story was if you wrote a chapter that skipped a few years, maybe when Sherlock is in his late teens, early twenties, he possibly had a fight with Mycroft who might have wanted to leave the TARDIS and the Doctor to start a career, which led to Sherlock leaving as well and beginning his drug addiction to forget all their adventures. Just a thought :)_

The ending to the story was one of the first things that I wrote. And actually, (I'm not going to spoil too much out of fear of disappointing River Song) you're not that far off with a few things! Eventually, and I hope that this isn't a spoiler so much as it is common sense, Sherlock and Mycroft are going to have to leave the Tardis. Unfortunately, Sherlock won't be in his teens/early twenties. He'll be eight. Mycroft will be fourteen, going on fifteen. The Doctor will be 1200, give or take a few years. And it will be sad. I will say that (**spoilers**) Mycroft is the one who wants to leave first and an extremely reluctant Sherlock has to follow. BUT Mycroft doesn't leave over wanting to start a career. I love Mycroft's character too much to let him be that selfish. And I'll even correct my previous sentence by saying that he _doesn't_ want to leave. But he _has_ to. And it's the hardest decision of his life. And he will regret it. And it does cause the hostility between the brothers. Too much history between them. Old scores. And it's so much more than just a few nicked smurfs or broken action figures.

Now, onto the chapter! As per CaptainXena-Motion's request, this shall have alien fighting in it. Kind of. It shall have aliens! Although I don't know why you would want a chapter with aliens. I mean it's not like this story is halfway based on Doctor Who or anything! Next, you'll be asking for a chapter with more mysteries.

Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty Seven

"Behold," the Doctor boomed, "The Roman Colosseum! Not bad, huh?"

"Not bad at all," Mycroft agreed, eagerly looking around, "Thanks, Doctor!"

"Maybe we'll run into Julius Caesar," the Doctor mused, "I've been meaning to warn him to stay away from knives."

He bent down and adjusted Sherlock's toga. Sherlock grinned and eagerly glanced around. It was weird to see the actual Colosseum and not just the ruins that they've seen in pictures. The three tediously climbed to get a good seat. It wasn't easy—the amphitheater was completely packed!

"I can't believe that we get to see real gladiators," Mycroft gushed, "We studied them last year, of course. Now we can see them in action."

"Yes, yes," Sherlock muttered, "History. Boring."

His eyes widened with excitement as he spotted several swords and other varoius weapons for sale.

"No," Mycroft said, before he could even ask.

"Come on!" Sherlock pressed, "Just one?"

"No," the Doctor repeated Mycroft's reply.

"But…"

"No!" Mycroft cried.

Sherlock pouted and the Doctor softened and compromised, "If you behave."

"Not if you behave!" Mycroft corrected, horrified.

"So I don't have to behave?" Sherlock eagerly asked.

"Oh, I give up," Mycroft sighed, "Fine! You can have _one_."

"Two."

"One!"

"Fine."

"Fine."

"You're a good brother," the Doctor chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah," Mycroft snarled but he smiled.

The three eagerly watched as a parade commenced, complete with music. It was followed by several mock fights, along with a few acts by trained animals.

And finally came the main act: the gladiator verses the vicious animal.

"What's it going to be?" Sherlock eagerly asked, "A lion? A tiger?"

The Doctor jokingly added, "A bear?"

"Oh my," Mycroft snorted, "It could be an elephant. They fought those, right?"

"Sometimes," the Doctor agreed, "My money's on either a lion or a tiger."

The bestiarii—the animal fighters—came out. The Doctor explained that they were the lowest of the gladiators, usually prisoners. Mycroft's face fell as he realized that they were equipped with only whips and spears. They were barely wearing any armor.

"Do they…do they have a chance?" Mycroft asked, suddenly worried.

The Doctor didn't answer but was looking rather glum.

"RAISE THE GATES!"

They watched as two iron gates were lifted. They could hear loud thudding as the animals approached.

"They must be elephants," Sherlock eagerly said before gasping, "What the…?"

Several menacing creatures entered. They _were_ the size of elephants, but they looked completely…alien. They were enormous with purple scales and at least a dozen eyes. They had twelve feet; six on either side.

"Err…" Mycroft slowly said, "I've only ever seen them in zoos, mind you…but…that doesn't look like an elephant…"

"No…" the Doctor softly replied, "No…That's a…that's a very good deduction. Good."

"Should we do something?" Sherlock asked.

The Doctor was already running. Sherlock and Mycroft anxiously raced after him.

The Doctor suddenly tripped, crashing and falling down the rest of the stairs. The boys winced and grimaced but he leapt up and assured them that he was alright. He then promptly leapt over the railing and landed on the dirt below.

"DOCTOR!" Mycroft screamed, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"NOT SURE," the Doctor shouted back, "I'M SORT OF IMPROVISING AT THE MOMENT! COME ALONG!"

"Oh bloody hell!" Mycroft cried, "Fine! After you, Sherlock!"

The two brothers jumped, roughly landing next to him.

"Hello, boys," the Doctor cheerfully said.

"'Lo, Doctor," Mycroft remarked, coughing up a good deal of dust.

"Alright," Sherlock wheezed, "So…we're here. Now what?"

"Well…" the Doctor admitted, "Like I said…I'm improvising."

The three straightened up and glanced at the beasts. They were chained, though it was obvious that the chains were straining. The gladiators were in a line, preparing to fight.

"Get back," the Doctor shouted, "Back!"

The gladiators stared at him, baffled.

"Or just stand there with your jaws on the floor," the Doctor remarked, "Why is that always a popular reaction?"

"I don't know," Mycroft sarcastically remarked, "They just watched a funny man with a tunic and bowtie leap into the arena along with a teenager and a child. I'm not sure _why_ they would be stunned."

The Doctor quickly used the Sonic to scan the snarling beasts.

"Creatură foarte mare," he muttered.

"What does that mean?" Sherlock asked.

"Really big creature," the Doctor translated.

The one chain was ready to snap.

The Doctor put his hands out, urging the brothers to step back.

"HEY!"

A very formal looking man was leaning against the railing, "WHO DARES TO INTURRUPT THE EMPEROR'S GAMES?"

"I DARE," the Doctor screamed, "AND WHO ARE YOU TO STOP ME?"

"I'M THE EMPORER!"

The Doctor hesitated and boomed, "AND I'M THE DOCTOR!"

"I'M SHERLOCK!" Sherlock yelled.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and shouted, "I'M MYCROFT!"

The Doctor took a deep breath and roared, "AND THIS IS BARBARIC! THESE MEN DON'T HAVE A CHANCE!"

The emperor looked outraged and bellowed, "THEY ARE PRISONERS! THEY ARE THE SCUM OF THE EARTH!"

"THEY ARE HUMANS! THEY DESERVE TO HAVE DIGNITY!"

"Easy, Doctor," Mycroft nervously said. The screaming was making the creatures anxious. They were trampling the ground and making horrid snarls.

The Doctor glanced at the poor creatures and shrieked, "AND THESE CREATURES ARE BEING HELD AGAINST THEIR WILL! THEY DO NOT EVEN BELONG TO THIS PLANET! WHERE DID YOU FIND THEM?"

"IT IS NO BUSINESS OF YOURS WHERE I HAVE GOTTEN THEM!"

The three suddenly spun around as two of the chains snapped.

"Doctor!" Mycroft and Sherlock both shouted, "Help!"

The Doctor immediately clicked his Sonic, somehow welding the chain links back together. In the meantime, he ended up getting swiped at. He flew into the wall, a deep gash on his stomach. Sherlock and Mycroft worriedly raced over.

"I'm fine," the Doctor grunted, "I'm fine."

He shakily stood up and Mycroft cried, "That's not going to hold them for long."

"I know," the Doctor wheezed.

"Stand down, sir," a gladiator spoke up, "This is our fight."

"I shall not stand down…what's your name?"

"Aelius, sir."

"Nice to meet you, Aelius," the Doctor cheerfully said, "I'm the Doctor. This is Sherlock and Mycroft. That's the emperor. That's a scary beast that's going to kill you."

"It is my destiny," Aelius solemnly said, "I am not but a prisoner."

"What did you do?" Sherlock curiously asked.

"I bore my chest in the public market," Aelius guiltily admitted.

"Right," Mycroft nodded, "Yes, well…as horrendous of a crime as that is…"

"I don't think that it's worthy of death," Sherlock finished.

"Neither do I," the Doctor quietly agreed.

"I might not die," Aelius boomed, "I might conquer this beast and bring pride to my family and myself!"

The Doctor beamed and cried, "Optimism! I do love that!"

At that moment, one of the beasts roared, drenching them with drool.

"However," the Doctor continued, "At the moment, realism is also good."

"You should try talking to it," Mycroft encouraged, "You can do that, right?"

"Yes," the Doctor excitedly said, "Good idea!"

He stepped forward and gently said, "Hello…I'm the Doctor…"

The creature swiped again and the Doctor danced backwards, shouting, "Good talk!"

The Doctor suddenly knelt down, looking like he was in completely agony.

"Doctor, what's wrong?" Sherlock and Mycroft both asked, shocked and worried.

"Blimey," the Doctor cried, "That's…ahhhhh…"

He clamped his hands over his ears. The boys realized that the creatures were also upset and becoming even more dangerous. They reared back onto their back legs before angrily stomping down.

"What is it?" Sherlock screamed.

"It's a high-pitched noise," the Doctor murmured, "You can't hear it?"

"We can't all have super hearing," Mycroft pointed out, "Is that what's causing the creatures to be so violent?"

"Yes," the Doctor murmured, "I don't understand…"

He shakily stood up just as the chains snapped.

"Run, RUN!"

He, Sherlock, Mycroft, and Aelius ran to the other side of the large arena.

Unfortunately, the other gladiators raced forward, ready to face their destiny.

"NO," the Doctor screamed, "NO! STOP! NOOOO!"

Sherlock and Mycroft immediately turned their faces into the Doctor's coat. They heard several horrid screams that were only drowned out by the beasts' ferocious growls.

"It's okay," the Doctor rapidly whispered, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, well actually it's not really okay but…come on!"

He urged them to keep running.

"We can't outrun them!" Mycroft shouted.

The beasts weren't fast but they were still fast enough.

"I know," the Doctor cried, "We need to find the source of the noise!"

The four frantically glanced around.

"There!" Sherlock suddenly cried, "The emperor's crown!"

"What?"

The emperor was still leaning against the railing, now looking enthusiastic. He had a crown of woven leaves. As the four passed beneath him, they realized that the leaves were rather metallic-looking and that the stems were wires.

"It must send a high-frequency sound," the Doctor gasped, understanding, "It hurts the creatures, causing them to becoming ferocious. Aha!"

"Don't get me wrong, Doctor," Mycroft cried, "I'm glad that we figured it out but…"

The Doctor pulled him away from one of the creatures as it drew near.

"We need to get back up there," the Doctor muttered, "We need to confront the emperor."

"And how are we going to do that?"

"Well, we could always use this," Sherlock cried, revealing that he was wearing his vortex manipulator.

The Doctor laughed at the brilliant plan.

"What is it?" Aelius cried, awed at the advanced technology.

"I'll explain later," the Doctor promised. Sherlock held out his arm and the three took it, though Aelius was rather hesitant. The youngest Holmes brother hit the button and they were suddenly back in the stands.

"That…that is the stuff of legend," Aelius whispered.

"Thanks, Sherlock," the Doctor gasped, "A few more seconds and…"

He didn't finish but they understood.

"It's a good thing that you had that," Mycroft wheezed.

"Yeah," Sherlock agreed, "I've been wearing it ever since we had to go to that children's home a few days ago! I don't like being trapped…"

The four straightened up and marched over to the emperor. His eyes were bulbous.

"Hello," the Doctor brightly said, "Sorry. Don't mean to interrupt. We just wanted to…"

He quickly hit his Sonic and the emperor's crown sparked and hissed. He anxiously took it off, throwing it to the side.

"Doctor, look," Mycroft pointed at the emperor's neck. It was pinched in several places.

"Ah," the Doctor softly said.

"A mask," Sherlock eagerly whispered.

"Alright, gang," the Doctor cried, "Let's get to the bottom of this mystery!"

He grabbed the mask and pulled it away. Sherlock and Mycroft shouted out, leaping back as the Doctor unmasked an alien. The alien had purple scales, very similar to the creatures below. Its eyes were yellow and it had three tongues. Other than that, it looked very human.

"I don't…" Aelius gasped, "I don't…understand…"

"Allow me to clarify," the Doctor gently said, "This man is not human. He is an alien poacher. He comes from the same planet as the creatures below—"

"I am much more evolved than those monsters!"

Surprisingly, the alien still spoke in the emperor's voice. It didn't suit him.

The Doctor looked thoughtful as he said, "Well…I wouldn't say that. After all, you did capture them and forced them to come to here, where you used them as sport. That's not very evolved at all."

"But what about the other people?" Sherlock asked, "There are hundreds of people in the stands. Why didn't they notice anything?"

The Doctor sighed and said, "Bloodlust, Sherlock. That's the reason that most people came to gladiator games. It wasn't to watch the gladiators be victorious and receive dignity."

He sadly glanced at Aelius and continued, "It was to watch them die."

"It doesn't really matter who was doing the killing," Mycroft finished. He looked rather disgusted, as if he couldn't believe that he had been excited to come.

"And to think," the Doctor lightly said, "He would have gotten away with it, if it wasn't for us meddling kids."

Mycroft and Sherlock laughed at the reference.

"Just think," Mycroft pointed out, "Instead of unmasking an alien that turns out to be a human, we're unmasking humans that turn out to be aliens."

"We shall throw him in jail," Aelius boomed, "He will pay for his crimes!"

Quite suddenly, one of the beasts crashed into the wall below. The Doctor grabbed the boys to keep them from falling. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to grab the poacher. The alien toppled over the railing and you don't need to be Holmes brothers to figure out the rest.

"Oh," Sherlock whispered, looking extremely pale.

Mycroft turned away and vomited.

"Well," the Doctor weakly said, "We did say that he will pay for his crimes."

Sherlock and Mycroft still looked horrified.

"It was his own doing," the Doctor sadly continued, "He caused the beasts to become uncontrolled and he paid the price."

"What are we going to do with them?" Mycroft whispered.

"There's only one thing to do," the Doctor cried, "We need to play the violin!"

The boys were not expecting that.

"What?" Sherlock finally asked.

The Doctor pulled a violin and bow from his endless pocket.

"You may do the honors, Sherlock," the Doctor kindly said, handing the instrument over.

Sherlock hesitated before saying, "Alright."

He began to play a gentle song. The Doctor clicked his Sonic and managed to amplify the music so that it filled the entire amphitheater. Mycroft glanced below and realized that the creatures were settling down. After several minutes, they were completely calm. Of course, he realized, it was the music. If the harsh sound made them angry, the soft sound made them calm.

"See," the Doctor gently said, "They really aren't bad creatures. They were taken from their planet, chained up, and tortured. That would make anyone vicious. We can pile them back into the Tardis and take them back to their planet. They've been through enough."

"Thank you, Doctor," Aelius whispered, shaking his hand, "I thought that death was my destiny. But now…"

"Now, you have a new destiny," the Doctor said with a smile, "And…just thought that I should point out…these guys need a new emperor."

The Doctor, Sherlock, and Mycroft smiled at his stunned look.

Mycroft then glanced back down and grimaced, "There's no dignity and honor in any of their deaths. It's a horrible way to go."

"Nobody deserves it," Sherlock agreed.

"True," the Doctor agreed with a heavy sigh, "But you know what they say…"

The brothers glanced at each other and the Doctor gently continued, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."


	28. Chapter 28

Author's Note: Before you begin this chapter, might I suggest doing two things to make it seem more authentic and emotional?

One: If you go to google and search: ANNE FRANK HOUSE 3D TOUR you will come across a wonderful link ( doesn't allow links to be put in) where you can see the inside of the house.

Two: Go to Youtube and search Athlete's Chances. Listen to the song.

I'm going to do another Author's Note at the end of the chapter, talking about certain parts of this chapter, but I don't want to spoil too much.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Three kites soared up to the stars. The Doctor, Sherlock, and Mycroft smiled as they guided them along. The three were sitting in the Tardis doorway. The lack of gravity outside caused the kites to fly straight up—silhouettes against the colorful stars.

The Doctor beamed as he let his string go. The brothers smiled and did the same. They watched with a slight tranquility as the kites floated away into the universe.

"That was fun," Mycroft admitted.

"Where are we going today?" Sherlock excitedly asked.

"I dunno," the Doctor said with a smile, "Hey! Why don't we let the Tardis choose?"

The door suddenly flew closed and the box began to shake.

"Alright!" Mycroft cried, "Take it easy!"

They clung onto the console to keep from flying around. The Tardis rumbled and growled before finally landing.

The Doctor let out a sigh with relief and said, "Phew! She wanted to go somewhere!"

"Okay," Sherlock slowly said, "So, where are we?"

"Let's find out," the Doctor suggested, going over and reopening the door.

They were in an extremely cramped bedroom. A girl was sitting on the bed. She looked slightly older than Mycroft. She was pretty with dark brown hair and slate-gray eyes which now shone with awe and adventure as she stared at the box.

"Oh," the Doctor brightly said, "Err…hello."

"Ssh," the girl whispered, "You must be quiet."

"Sorry," the Doctor whispered, looking confused, "Who are you?"

"M…my name is Anne."

The Doctor's eyes suddenly widened with shock. The three looked around the long and narrow room. It looked vaguely familiar. The Doctor recognized it almost immediately. Mycroft gasped as he finally placed the girl. Sherlock remained confused.

"No…" Mycroft whispered, "No…no way…"

"What is it?"

"Sssh," the Doctor murmured, "Sherlock, you must be extremely quiet."

"Are you…are you Anne Frank?" Mycroft asked in a hushed voice.

She nodded, her eyes wide.

"Bloody hell," Mycroft muttered.

"Mycroft," the Doctor hissed, "Show a bit of respect!"

"Anne? What was that noise? Are you alright?"

A man entered the bedroom. He looked terrified and he whispered, "What is this? Who are you? What's going on?"

"Ssh, sssh," the Doctor whispered, "It's okay. I'm a friend."

He pulled out his psychic paper and murmured, "Otto Frank, right? It's an honor to meet you, sir. We're friends. We're on your side."

Otto looked dazed for a moment before saying, "V…very well. But please…keep quiet."

"Of course."

He left, still looking dazed.

"What was that?" Anne curiously asked, "That paper? What did you do?"

"It's…it's a psychic paper," the Doctor bashfully said, "Didn't you see any words?"

"No," Anne softly replied, "It was blank."

The Doctor smiled at that.

"Who are you?" Anne continued, "What is that box?"

"I'm…I'm the Doctor. This is Mycroft Holmes and Sherlock Holmes."

"Are you real?" Anne breathed, "Or is this a dream?"

"Believe me," the Doctor kindly said, "I'm real."

"Anne Frank," Sherlock muttered before it clicked. He hadn't read many books on WWII but the books he had read stuck with him, "Oh!"

"Sherlock, ssssh," Mycroft and the Doctor both whispered.

"Would you excuse us for a moment?" Mycroft asked.

The three ducked back into the Tardis, leaning against the door.

"O…kay," the Doctor slowly said, "Anne Frank. We're in the Secret Annex."

"What year is it?" Mycroft cried.

The Doctor glanced at a monitor and said, "1944. February. Six months before…"

He trailed off but both brothers understood.

"Doctor," Mycroft suddenly spoke up, "We need to do something! We need to get everyone out! We need to…"

He paused, seeing the crestfallen look on the Doctor's face.

Mycroft sighed and slowly asked, "We can't, can we?"

The Doctor sadly shook his head and murmured, "Fixed point in time."

"No," Sherlock cried, "No! We need to do something."

Mycroft closed his eyes and murmured, "We should just go."

"You're right," the Doctor agreed.

They jumped as somebody knocked on the door.

"Excuse me?" Anne softly called, "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"We can't be rude," the Doctor mouthed, "Dinner and then we'll leave."

The three quickly slipped back into the bedroom, quickly closing the door so that Anne couldn't see inside.

"What is this box?" Anne asked, looking bemused, "It's…it's magic."

The Doctor tried to explain but Mycroft wasn't paying attention. He had spotted a book beneath the pillow on one of the beds. He reached out but the Doctor gently took his arm and sharply shook his head.

The four then crept up several stairs, coming up in a larger but still cramped room. Mr. and Mrs. Van Pels were already at the table. Margo and Edith brought over a tiny proportion of stew for everyone to share. Otto Frank was still looking dazed. Upon seeing the questioning looks of the others, the Doctor took out his psychic paper again.

"We're eating with the Franks and the Van Pels," Mycroft whispered, "This is…this is unbelievable."

Sherlock frowned, poking at a piece of potato. Nobody really said anything—it was hard to talk when somebody could hear in the offices.

"This isn't right," Sherlock finally hissed.

Mycroft nodded. It was both amazing and unsettling.

"Doctor," Sherlock muttered, "We _need_ to do something!"

"No," the Doctor hissed, "Now, knock it off."

"What?" Sherlock angrily cried.

"Sssshh!"

Sherlock flinched as everyone at the table hushed him.

"You ssshh," Sherlock muttered.

"Sherlock, stop it!" Mycroft chastised.

"NO!" Sherlock shouted.

The Doctor clamped a hand over Sherlock's mouth. The Doctor then excused himself and pulled Sherlock up into the attic.

"Sherlock Holmes," the Doctor angrily said, "What is the matter with you? Do you know how dangerous that was?"

"Dangerous?" Sherlock repeated.

"Yes," the Doctor hissed, "Dangerous. It was very dangerous. This entire situation is very dangerous and you're just making it worse."

"But apparently the danger isn't enough to help them," Sherlock snapped.

The Doctor sighed at his remark and quietly said, "Look, Sherlock. I know that it's hard but we can't do anything."

"They're going to die," Sherlock whispered, "Doesn't that mean anything?"

"Of course it means something," the Doctor passionately said, "You're right. They're going to die and I can't do anything to save them. Satisfied?"

"No," Sherlock quietly bit, "Just disappointed."

"Disappointed?"

The Doctor looked wounded by that but Sherlock didn't care. The small boy rose himself up to his tallest height—which was still a good two feet shorter than the Doctor—and angrily continued, "I can't just sit there when I know that something is going to happen to them. Do you know how torturous that is?"

The Doctor suddenly looked extremely sad as he quietly said, "Yes. I know exactly how torturous it is, Sherlock. I have to do it every day. I have to look at my wife and not say anything about how she dies. I'm talking to you right now and I can't tell you about a fixed point in your future. I meet people, families, cities, entire planets…and I can't tell them their fate. I know exactly how it feels and I know how horrible it feels. But it has to be done. And I know…it's not fair. It's not fair at all. But neither is the universe."

His voice hadn't risen—the Doctor had just gotten over explaining the risks of that—but it had become fiercer until Sherlock gave a small shudder. He knew that he had messed up and that the Time Lord was angry. But still…

Sherlock was quiet for a moment before stubbornly saying, "But can't we at least tell them? Can't we tell them what's going to happen?"

"No," the Doctor replied, "That's just cruel."

"Cruel?"

"You're giving them a death sentence," the Doctor patiently explained, "It won't prepare them; they can't change anything. Right now, Anne and her family are in there, holding onto the little bit of hope that they are going to make it out of this. We can't take that away from them."

Sherlock sighed and resentfully nodded.

"Come along," the Doctor said, trying to sound cheerful, "Let's get back to them but be quiet. We don't want to alert anyone before…before their time."

Sherlock gave a shudder at the thought and the two crept back down to the others. The Doctor stayed in the main room. Sherlock looked around and realized that Mycroft and Anne had gone back down into her bedroom. Anne was showing him excerpts of her diary. Mycroft listened and stared in awe.

He glanced up and saw that Sherlock had a wild look in his eyes. That was usually never a good sign. Mycroft politely excused himself and pulled Sherlock into the corner, which was a good five feet away from Anne's bed. Still, Anne was too busy writing about the weird boys who had shown up in the box to listen. Before he could say anything, Sherlock whispered, "I…I have an idea."

"Oh no," Mycroft groaned.

"Ssh," Sherlock whispered, "Here me out. The Doctor said that we couldn't say anything about…what happens to them…because we don't want to take away their hope."

Mycroft glanced back at Anne and nodded, "Yeah, I can see that…"

"But," Sherlock murmured, "What if we could show Anne something that could give her even more hope?"

He whispered his plan. At first, Mycroft was horrified. Then he was skeptical. Then intrigued and finally agreeable.

"If this works…" Mycroft whispered, "It will be…unbelievable."

"I know," Sherlock excitedly said, still in a hushed voice.

"There's just one problem," Mycroft pointed out, "A certain funny-man-with-a-bowtie problem. I'm not sure that he'll want to go."

"So, we'll take her ourselves," Sherlock promptly said.

"Yeah, okay," Mycroft sarcastically remarked, "We somehow figure out how to fly the gigantic police box, take Anne along with us, come back, and somehow convince the Doctor that we were just _borrowing_ the Tardis."

"We're going to be in trouble," Sherlock admitted, "But…think of what we'll be doing."

"Yeah," Mycroft agreed with a smile, "And we'd be helping. The Doctor would appreciate that. I think…Hopefully. But how exactly are we going to fly the Tardis?"

The two tossed around several ideas before Sherlock finally said, "She'll get us where we need to go. I'm sure of it."

"Okay," Mycroft slowly said, "But how do we get into the Tardis?"

"Well, she _is_ right over there," Sherlock pointed out, nodding to the other corner.

"Yes, but…"

"So, let's just go."

"Right now?" Mycroft skeptically asked.

"Yes," Sherlock excitedly whispered, "Right now! Are you in?"

"Yeah," Mycroft sighed, "Why not? Hey, Anne."

She looked up and donned the brothers a bright smile.

"We need to show you something," Mycroft whispered.

"What is it?" Anne asked.

"Well, it's in there," Mycroft admitted, "Inside the blue box."

"What about the blue box?"

The Doctor appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. Ah, Time Lord hearing.

"Run," Sherlock hissed.

The two half-tiptoed, half-ran to the other side of the room. Anne joined them, her face lit up with adventure. Mycroft opened the door and ushered the others inside. Anne and Sherlock both giggled with excitement.

"Oi," the Doctor said, as loudly as he could, "What do you think you're doing?"

"We're stealing the Tardis!" Mycroft loudly whispered.

"You're…what?"

"We're stealing the Tardis!" Sherlock repeated his brother's whisper.

The Doctor stood for a minute, completely baffled, before racing in. Meanwhile, Anne was looking around, completely awestruck.

"What do you mean, you're stealing the Tardis?"

"We mean that we're stealing the Tardis," Sherlock said, matter-of-factly, "You're welcome to come along, of course."

"If you want to," Mycroft added, "Then again, we're also breaking a bunch of universal laws so we would understand if you want to opt out…"

The Doctor closed the door and asked, "And why are you stealing my Tardis?"

"Oh, we need to go somewhere," Sherlock said with a bright smile.

The Doctor was not amused, "Where are you going?"

"Ah," Mycroft pleasantly said, "Spoilers."

"And how, pray tell, are you planning on getting there?"

"Well," Sherlock mused, "We _were_ planning on taking you hostage. Sorry. But then we realized that we didn't need you to help navigate."

"She knows where we want to go, you see," Mycroft finished with a grin, "Geronimo!"

He hit a random button and they were off.

"This is amazing," Anne gasped, "Absolutely amazing!"

The Doctor smiled at her excitement before muttering, "You two are in so much trouble."

"Oh, we know," Mycroft said with a grin.

The Doctor gave a start and asked, "You know that you're going to be in trouble, and yet you're doing it anyway?"

"Yes."

The Doctor actually looked slightly proud as he said, "Good on you, Mycroft."

The Tardis landed and Sherlock and Mycroft threw the doors open.

"We're outside," Anne gasped, "How did you do that?"

Mycroft laughed and said, "We're not just outside."

It was easy to think that, at first. After all, they were in front of the building that she was just in. Only, it wasn't exactly the same building.

"Oh," the Doctor softly mumbled.

_Take all the chances while you can. You never know when they'll pass you by._

"Come on," Mycroft gently said, "We need to show you something."

He took Anne's hand and Sherlock took the other.

The brothers glanced back at the Doctor, just to be sure. The Doctor was speechless but he nodded, giving them permission to go ahead with their plan.

_Like a sum the mathematician cannot solve. Like me, trying my hardest to explain._

The three excitedly entered the Anne Frank House. The Doctor followed, though he stayed a good distance behind them. After all, this was Sherlock and Mycroft's mission. And so he stood back and watched with pride as the brothers took an amazed Anne around the museum.

_It's all about your cries and kisses. Those first steps that I can't calculate. I need some more of you to take me over. Take me over…_

They kept her away from any information on the morning of August 4th, 1944. They showed her everything else.

_If I had the chance to start again, then you would be the one I'd call and find. Like the poster of Berlin on my wall, maybe there's a chance our walls might fall._

Quotations from the diary, historical documents, photographs, film images, and original objects that belonged to those in hiding…it was all there. And she got to see them all. Her eyes filled with tears but she was smiling. Always smiling.

_It's all about your cries and kisses. Those first steps that I can't calculate. I need some more of you to take me over…_

She finally spotted her diary, encased in glass.

"Yeah," Mycroft laughed, "It's not really a secret anymore."

"Sorry about that," Sherlock said with a grin.

"Anne," Mycroft softly said, "You gave hope to so many people."

"You're a hero," Sherlock agreed.

She stepped forward to gaze at her diary—the beacon of hope for the thousands of people who visited the museum every day. The Holmes brothers stepped back, giving her a moment.

The sheer emotion of what they did suddenly hit Sherlock and Mycroft. Mycroft made a weird noise, wiping his eyes. Sherlock licked his lips, trying his best not to cry. And, just like every other time, the Doctor was there. He came up behind them and pulled the Holmes brothers into a tight hug. They returned it; Sherlock didn't even hesitate. The Time Lord didn't say anything but the wide and kind smile was enough for them to know that he was proud. So proud…

"Are we still in trouble?" Sherlock anxiously asked.

The Doctor laughed and pulled him into an even tighter hug. He then draped his arms around the boys' shoulders, holding them close as the three watched Anne. She closed her eyes, smiling as she realized just how much of an impact her story had on people. She twirled around, her arms outstretched, as if she was trying to grab onto all of the memories. The three knew that they would have to take her back, in a few minutes. But until then, they still had this moment. She still had this moment—the moment where she was completely at peace. The moment where she was hopeful. It was a very good moment.

"And finally I twist my heart round again," the Doctor quietly said, "So that the bad is on the outside and the good is on the inside, and keep on trying to find a way of becoming what I would so like to be, and could be, if there weren't any other people living in the world."

Mycroft glanced down at his younger brother, who had orchestrated this entire thing. He smiled and whispered, "In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart."

_It's all about your cries and kisses. Those first steps that I can't calculate. I need some more of you to take me over. I know because I can't calculate how to start again…how to start again…how to start again…it's all about you._

Author's Note: Okay, I need to explain this chapter. All I can say is that the emotion in this chapter escalated quickly. I was inspired by a post on tumblr which said:

_I want an episode of Doctor Who where the Doctor meets Anne Frank but her death is a fixed point so he can't change it so instead he takes her to the future so she can see that it will not always be this way and the world doesn't end in 1944 and that's why she writes in her diary "and that's why, in spite of everything, I believe that people are good at heart" and that she is remembered for her struggle._

So I thought to myself, "How could I involve Sherlock and Mycroft in this?" And then it hit me. What if: the Doctor doesn't want to interfere with Anne's delicate timestream. So the brothers, especially Sherlock, go over his head. I'll get into Sherlock's character here in a minute. So instead of taking Anne to the future, they take her to the Anne Frank House.

Now before you read it and say, "Hey! Marauders4EVR, the theme of this chapter is very similar to _Vincent and the Doctor_! Especially the ending. Even the lyrics that you randomly put in—even though up until this point you have not put any song lyrics into this story!"

And to that I reply: Yes. You are right. _Vincent and the Doctor_ is my favorite episode of Doctor Who because he is able to change Vincent van Gogh's outlook on his life. And it is said that Anne always had hope. Sherlock and Mycroft just give her more of that. They take a girl who has always held onto hope and show her that she inspired thousands and gave other people hope. And I put the song lyrics in because Chances was the song that played during the museum scene in the episode. And it's a wonderful song. And if you look at the lyrics, it really describes both Sherlock and Doctor Who.

Now then, onto Sherlock's character. I struggled with him stepping up and caring about the family and wanting to make a difference because if we look at Sherlock in the series, we can see that this is very out-of-character. Sherlock even tells John that caring for Moriarty's victims won't help save them. So why would Sherlock get angry when the Doctor cannot do anything, some thirty years earlier? Well the answer is that it _is_ thirty years earlier.

Sherlock is still a kid. And though he is a bright and brilliant child, he still holds onto that bit of youthful innocence. His world isn't corrupted yet. By this point in the story, the Doctor has broken Sherlock's shell enough where Sherlock really does care. It's out-of-character. But don't worry; it will eventually go back into character. And in a way it's sad. Because Sherlock will eventually get hurt and he will eventually leave the Doctor and his world will eventually become corrupted and he will stop caring as much. He'll become the Sherlock that we know. There's a huge transition from the boy who initially wanted to be a pirate to the cold man who wants to be alone. So what might we deduce about his heart? Well, we can deduce that Sherlock does have one, despite what he's been reliably informed. And so he convinces Mycroft to go along with this plan. Even though both boys are going to be in trouble (although see just how the Doctor reacts when he realizes what his companions are doing) he still goes through with it. He helps Anne Frank. He shows Anne Frank just how inspiring she was. He takes his chances…


	29. Chapter 29

Author's Note: Hello! As always, thank you for the wonderful reviews! I have a lighter chapter, tonight. My next chapter is going to be a chapter of author's notes, comments, and scraps—any ideas that weren't long enough to be a chapter, couldn't fit into another chapter, but are still important to the story. So if anybody has any suggestions, questions, comments, critiques, etc., please feel free to share! You can review, send me a Private Message, send me a message on tumblr, break into my house, whatever you need to do!

Chapter Twenty Nine

It was the best fort in the universe.

At least, that's what the Doctor proudly exclaimed. And Mycroft and Sherlock weren't about to disagree with him. They had draped blankets across the entire console room and had piled pillows upon pillows inside. The three now crawled around, grinning from ear to ear.

"Knock knock?"

"Who's there?" Sherlock jokingly shouted.

"Jack!"

The Doctor laughed and cried, "Jack who?"

"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack chuckled, ducking into the fort.

"Booooo," the Doctor groaned, hitting him with a pillow.

"Oi," Jack cried, "Mind the hair!"

"This is _our_ pillow fort," the Doctor whined, hitting him again, "No Jacks allowed!"

"Not unless you know the password," Sherlock added with a grin.

Jack pretended to think about it for a minute before slowly saying, "Bowties."

"Drat," the Doctor dramatically cried, snapping his fingers, "Alright. You're in."

The others laughed and Mycroft passed the pizza. Jack happily accepted a piece, leaning against a pile of pillows.

"What're you doing here?" Mycroft asked.

"Well," Jack sighed, "We have a slight problem."

"What?"

"If we go by that fancy clock in your room," Jack pointed out, "You should have been back to school two weeks ago!"

"Bloody hell," Mycroft whispered, "I completely forgot about school!"

"But we were suspended," Sherlock pointed out.

"Only for a month," Mycroft reminded him, "And we've been gone for five…"

"They've been calling your father, wondering where you are," Jack lazily said.

"Hang on," Mycroft said, "How do you know that?"

"Oh, I have tabs on your house," Jack casually replied, looking surprised that he didn't know, "Torchwood surveillance. That's how I knew that your father was starting trouble a few weeks ago and how I was able to get down there to stop the angry mob."

"You're watching our house?" Mycroft cried.

"Sure," Jack shrugged, "Word to the wise, Mycroft: If you're ever worried about somebody starting trouble or getting into trouble, put a bloody good amount of cameras and microphones around their house. That way you can keep a close eye on them."

"Huh," Mycroft muttered, "Alright. I'll remember that."

He would.

"Anyway," Jack continued, "Your father finally said that he wanted to know where "that blasted Doctor" was. So I went up and knocked on the door, thinking that I could at least act as the messenger. I must admit, for somebody who is usually a formal stick in the mud, your father certainly has a colorful vocabulary."

Sherlock and Mycroft both laughed at that. They could imagine their father's face when he saw exactly who was standing on the doorstep.

Jack grinned and exclaimed, "He finally told me that since I was the one who granted permission for you two to travel with the Doctor, it was my problem."

"So you came here," the Doctor finished with a smile, "To make it _our_ problem."

"Exactly," Jack laughed, grabbing another piece of pizza.

"But I don't want to go back to school!" Sherlock pressed, "We can learn everything here in the Tardis! If we want to learn about the pyramids, we can go to the pyramids. Who needs to study a famous person's biography when you can crash into their living room? Besides, school is boring and my classmates are all idiots!"

"Hey, hey," the Doctor soothingly said, "Sorry to interrupt, Sherlock—I _am_ a fan of passionate rants—but you're worrying about nothing. You don't have to go back to school."

Sherlock sighed with relief.

"Don't worry," the Doctor said with a sly smile, "I have a plan."

() () ()

"Oh good," River brightly said, "I broke out of one prison just to go into another."

Sherlock chuckled at that. It was nice to know that somebody shared his sentiments about school.

"Behave," Mycroft sighed as they approached the building.

"You behave," River teased, "I could ground you."

"Yes Auntie River," Mycroft said in a mockingly innocent voice.

River threw her head back and laughed. The Doctor grinned as they approached the metal detector. He smoothly reached into his pocket, clicking the Sonic to allow them all to pass without sounding the alarm.

"Can you blast my headmaster?" Sherlock excitedly asked.

"No," Mycroft sharply said before River could reply.

Sherlock sighed and asked, "What about the idiots who bullied me? Can you blast them?"

"Sherlock," Mycroft reprimanded, "We're coming here to avoid trouble."

"Humph," Sherlock huffed, "Well that seems mildly ironic."

"How so?"

"Well," Sherlock slowly pointed out, "Five months ago, the Doctor took us away from here so that we could avoid trouble."

The four tried to casually walk down the corridor. They entered the main office and the youngest Holmes brother cringed as he remembered all of the happy days that he had spent waiting for the Headmaster.

The Doctor eagerly crossed to the temp's desk and loudly cried, "Hello there! I am the uncle of Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes. You can call me Uncle Holmes! Or the Doctor! Or, if you wish, you can call me Uncle Doctor."

"Doctor," Mycroft pointedly said.

"That's Uncle Doctor to you!"

"Get to the point, _Uncle _Doctor!"

"We are here to see Headmaster Piper!"

The temp blinked and muttered, "I'll see if he is available."

Sherlock glared at that blasted poster on the wall. The Doctor and River simultaneously leaned over on either side of him. The Doctor stroked his chin, as if observing a magnificent piece of art.

"Flowers don't smile," River slowly mused.

"No," Mycroft lightly said, "They don't, do they?"

"Well," the Doctor slowly said, "We don't know that for sure. I'm quite certain that there are planets where flowers show emotion. But even if that was the case, what are the odds that every single flower is happy?"

"Thank you!" Sherlock cried.

"Ahem!"

Headmaster Piper had appeared, looking flustered and frustrated to see them.

The Doctor straightened up and said, "You do realize that flowers don't smile?"

"So I've heard," Piper snapped, giving Sherlock and Mycroft a nasty look.

"Headmaster Piper," Mycroft politely said, "It's…nice to see you again."

"Come on in, then," Piper sighed, "I assume you both have valid reasons as to why you have disappeared off the face of the earth?"

"Literally," Sherlock muttered, causing Mycroft, River, and the Doctor to laugh.

Sherlock wearily glanced around. He hated the Headmaster's office.

"I can explain," the Doctor smoothly said, "You see, these boys were traveling with me."

"We're so sorry that we forgot to call," River added, "It's not as though we live in a giant phone booth or anything."

Mycroft and Sherlock stifled another laugh.

"Anyway," the Doctor cheerfully said, "We are going to be homeschooling Sherlock and Mycroft from now on. So there's no reason for them to come here."

Sherlock cheered and Mycroft nudged him.

"Really?" Piper asked with a sneer, "Well, I'm afraid that it takes a bit more than just saying that you're going to homeschool them. I need legal documents. Forms. Where are they?"

The Doctor scoffed and asked, "Where are they? That's…that's a very good question…"

The door suddenly flew open and Jack joyfully entered.

"Who are you?" Piper spluttered.

"Captain Judge Jack Harkness," Jack exclaimed.

"Oh for the love of—" River sighed.

"You've got to be kidding me," Mycroft groaned.

"Mr. Holmes might have bought it but Piper's not an idiot," the Doctor pointed out.

"Your Honor," Piper gushed, bowing.

"Then again…" the Doctor slowly said.

"I have several legal documents," Jack gleefully cried, showing his Psychic Paper, "Here is a legal document. And here is a legal document. And here's one. And here's another!"

He spun around several times, dramatically flourishing the small piece of paper.

"Also," Jack added, "Flowers don't smile."

Sherlock grinned at that.

"Very well," Piper briskly said, adjusting his tie, "I suppose that everything's in order. I must warn you though—these are two of the most difficult students that I've ever known."

"Thank you," Sherlock said with a smirk.

"Oi," Mycroft cried, "What did _I_ do? Blimey, you tell somebody to go to hell once and the past ten years of your reputation are undone."

Piper all but ignored him and continued, "Not many teachers like them."

"That's alright," River casually said.

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed, ruffling Sherlock's curls, "_We_ like them!"

Sherlock and Mycroft grinned at that.

"Yes…well…" Piper huffed, "At least let me give you Sherlock's records. You'll still have to contact Headmaster Dibble on Mycroft's behalf."

The Doctor curiously skimmed through and cried, "Top marks…well done, Sherlock!"

"Excuse me," Piper snapped, "I think that you'd be more interested in the number of times that he's been in trouble."

"Nope," the Doctor pleasantly said, "I'm definitely more interested in his marks. You're at the top of the class, naturally. Top of the school! 170 IQ! Blimey!"

Sherlock flushed with pride.

"And you still sleep with a teddy bear," River respectfully laughed.

Mycroft smiled at how happy his brother looked.

"I always said that you were brilliant," the Doctor praised.

"Never had a doubt," Jack agreed.

"Thanks," Sherlock gratefully said, his face bright red.

"Come along," the Doctor boomed, "Time to get back to the universe!"

"In a minute," River slyly said, "Sherlock and I have to do something."

"We do?" Sherlock asked.

"Yep," River cheerfully said, dragging him along, "Meet you back at the Tardis!"

Mycroft, Jack, and the Doctor glanced at one another, both amused and confused. They shrugged and made their way down the corridor. Mycroft paused to glance out the window, towards the swings. It seemed like ages ago that the Tardis had reappeared.

The Doctor stopped and gently asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Mycroft bashfully said, "I just…I…"

"Well, helllllo," Jack interrupted as a woman passed, "Who is she?"

Mycroft snorted and muttered, "That's the school nurse."

"Helllllo, nurse!" Jack called, smoothly going after her, "I'd let you give me a checkup any day."

Mycroft laughed and shook his head.

"Sorry about that," the Doctor chuckled, "What were you saying?"

"Nothing," Mycroft replied with a smile, "Just…thanks for coming back for us, Doctor."

"You never have to thank me," the Doctor reminded him.

Before Mycroft could say anything, River and Sherlock raced up the hall.

"Go, go, go, go, go," River quickly said, "Go!"

The Doctor and Mycroft ran alongside them, collecting Jack along the way.

"What did you do?" Mycroft accused.

"Nothing," River cried, "Nothing! I may have blasted Anderson! Nothing!"

"You WHAT?" Mycroft yelped.

"On to Mycroft's school," the Doctor laughed.

"You…you…I…" Mycroft didn't even know what to say.

Sherlock seemed to know exactly what to say, "Flowers don't smile!"


	30. Chapter 30

Author's Note: Hello and welcome to a very unique chapter! This is a chapter of scraps, ideas, thoughts, drabbles, questions, answers, and other random things that couldn't fit anywhere else in the story but are still very important.

Hush little Sherlock, don't you cry. Mummy cannot open her eyes. Father's got a lot of work to do. But Mycroft will be there for you. You'll meet a funny man with a bowtie. He'll take you in a box that can fly. Yes, Mycroft's going to come along. He'll keep you safe; he will be strong. Hush little Sherlock, please don't cry. Mycroft will protect you until the end of time.

_Fun fact! I wrote that little poem before I even knew the title of this story. I literally could not think of a title. It was killing me. I messaged my friends on Facebook…It was fun. Anyway, I wrote the little poem and got the idea…Until The End of Time._

_Question: Are you going to show anything about Sherlock making their mother upset?_

_Answer: Nope. I know that Mycroft mentions it in the series but I'm choosing to overlook it. I wanted them to have a great relationship with their mother and a…not-so-great relationship with their father. And that's never mentioned in the series. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes are basically my own headcanons._

() () ()

"I'll be right back," the Doctor quietly said, "Don't wander off."

"Right," Mycroft anxiously replied.

The Doctor raced away.

Mycroft and Sherlock glanced at one another. Sherlock started forward but Mycroft sharply shook his head. The two awkwardly waited.

After several minutes, the Doctor ran back and confusedly asked, "You're still here?"

"Of course," Mycroft asked, "You told us to not wander off!"

The Doctor gave a start and slowly said, "Oh…well…you two are the first to do that…"

"Sorry," Mycroft remarked, puzzled.

"No, no," the Doctor assured him, "It's fine. It's just…following the rules! We're going to have to fix that!"

() () ()

"Hey Doctor," Sherlock suddenly spoke up, "What's your real name?"

The Doctor paused and a cloud of darkness crossed his face, "I'm sorry, Sherlock. I can never reveal my name. It's the question that has transcended through time and space. It's the first question. The oldest question in the universe. And silence will fall when the question is asked. I can never answer it. I'm sorry."

Sherlock blinked before saying, "Oh. Okay."

_Question: Where did you first get the idea for this story?_

_Answer: Peter Pan, believe it or not! A few months ago, I was wrestling with a few ideas for a Wholock story. The trouble was that they had all been done before and I didn't want to copy anyone's idea. Eventually, I realized that I wanted to do a story where Sherlock and Mycroft were children and they become the Doctor's companions. I turned on the TV and Peter Pan was on. Most of my inspiration actually did come from that: a boy (or in this case, a 1200 year old Time Lord) who randomly shows up and takes children from a rigid household to a new world of adventure and fun. I'm also majoring in Early Childhood/Special Education so I spent last semester doing an internship with a class. One boy had Asperger's Syndrome. We can sit here for hours and debate the whole Sherlock-Asperger's thing (personally, I believe that he is right beneath the line but not actually on it) but the point is that the little boy actually became my model for young-Sherlock. He was very focused on a few particular subjects, had a hard time fitting in with the rest of the class, didn't understand sarcasm, had a hard time grasping any real human emotion, had once been called a psychopath by a bully, etc. I once had to accompany him to the principal's office after he got into a fight during recess. He glanced around the office before becoming transfixed by this poster on the wall. The poster said BE UNIQUE and it had a bunch of smiling red flowers and one smiling yellow flower. When I asked what he was thinking about, he quietly said, "Flowers don't smile." Indeed, he seemed pretty upset about the fact that an educator's office would have such a ridiculous poster when flowers, logically, do not smile. I want to be clear: __**I didn't write Sherlock as having Asperger's**__ but I did slip in a few attributes and qualities. And much like Sherlock, this boy was definitely brilliant._

_Question: Do you listen to any songs when you're writing this? Are there any songs that you think fit the characters?_

_Answer: When I was writing the chapter where Mrs. Holmes passes away, I thought that I would torture myself even more by listening to the Epilogue from Les Misérables. It helped set the mood. I listened to Chances by Athlete (not just in the Anne Frank chapter but throughout the entire fanfiction just because that song makes me think of Wholock and it's a good song). I listen to the 'I Am The Doctor' theme whenever something particularly dramatic happens. When I was writing the chapter where Sherlock and Mycroft wanted to figure out just what was so important about them, the song 'Don't You Worry Child' came on and I actually wrote a modified version:_

_There was a time_

_I used to look into the Doctor's eyes_

_The Tardis was my home_

_Bowties were cool_

_We yelled, "Geronimo."_

_Those days are gone_

_Now I have to take the fall_

_Still I hear the song_

_Of the blue box where I belong_

_Up in the stars inside that blue box_

_That's where I woke up at 2:00_

_I still remember how he talked_

_The Doctor said, "Don't you worry, don't you worry, child._

_See time has got a plan for you._

_Don't you worry, don't you worry, now."_

_Etc. etc._

_When thinking about Mycroft, I think about the song 'Simple Man' originally by Lynard Skynard though I have the Shinedown cover. I think that it's a very fitting song. I mean, we know that there was a point in Mycroft's life (at least in this fanfiction) where Mrs. Holmes sits him down and he promises that he will take care of Sherlock. And I can honestly see Mrs. Holmes telling Mycroft some of the things in the song. And the Doctor, as well. Maybe he doesn't come right out and say it, but one of the main themes in this story is that the Doctor wants Mycroft and Sherlock to be happy. To know that there are people who care about them. To know that they are brilliant, regardless of what the rest of the world thinks. And the line, "And don't forget that there is someone up above" can be a direct reference to the Doctor looking out for them!_

_I also found this great song by the Cinematic Orchestra called 'To Build A Home'. The chorus itself reminds me of that 'family-type' aspect that the Doctor, Mycroft, Sherlock, River, and Jack have built. And I'll listen to a few Beatles songs just because._

_Question: How many chapters is this story going to have?_

_Answer: I have absolutely no idea! This story is actually a lot longer than I had originally intended! (Not that I'm complaining!) It's double the amount of chapters that my stories usually have. The boys were originally supposed to stay with the Doctor for three months. That turned into four and now we're up to five. I'm putting a limit on six months though. We're actually nearing the end of the story. Put it this way: This is the thirtieth chapter and there won't be a fortieth. All stories must end sometime (even if our beloved Time Lord disagrees!)_

_And the best part is: I did cut out many parts. This was originally supposed to be a chapter after they visited the Roman Colosseum. _

"Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on!"

"No," Sherlock cried, "I like the toga."

"Yes," Mycroft sighed, "That's all well and good but you've been wearing it for two days! You even wore it when we were helping George Washington cross the Delaware. Now put your trousers on!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Sherlock."

"Mycr—"

"Oh, stop it."

"You knew that it was coming."

The Doctor chuckled as the two brothers argued back and forth.

Quite suddenly, Jack appeared in the console room.

"Hey," Sherlock cried, "Not fair! Jack doesn't get to wear trousers."

Jack was down to his briefs.

"Jack's…Jack," Mycroft explained, "Jack Harkness, put _your_ trousers on!"

"What for?" Jack asked with a smirk.

Sherlock chuckled.

"Don't encourage him," Mycroft muttered.

_Yet another series reference. That's another reason why I decided to take it out. I don't want to make it seem like every single action/quote that Sherlock and Mycroft say in the series resulted from what they heard/did in the Tardis. Parallels and nods to the series are great. However, even I knew that too many will lead to the famous Monty Python and the Holy Grail quote, "GET ON WITH IT!" Then again, who better to teach Sherlock about the art of not wearing pants than the man who needs a belt and suspenders to hold his own pants up? AKA: Captain Jack Harkness._

_Anyway, I did have an actual reason for Jack being down to his briefs. I won't copy and paste the whole conversation but basically the Doctor met Jack for a drink the night before (the Doctor drank milk) and basically acted as Jack's…I don't even know what you would call it…reverse-wingman? To make sure that Jack doesn't flirt with every single person in the bar. So Jack reveals that the Doctor dared him to go with a woman who had twenty-eight cats at home. This actually leads to this little bit:_

The Doctor laughed and Jack glowered.

"Well," Sherlock slowly said, "Was she friendly?"

"Oh yeah," Jack laughed, "She was _very_ friendly."

"JACK!" Mycroft and the Doctor both shouted.

"Sorry, sorry," Jack laughed, "Couldn't resist."

"Can you _please_ put on some trousers?" Mycroft asked.

"Sure," Jack chuckled.

The Doctor pulled a spare pair of trousers out of his pocket.

"You keep an extra set of Jack's trousers in your pockets?" Mycroft asked.

"Yeah…" the Doctor slowly admitted, "I have a set, River has a set, and the wardrobe in the spare room is piled high with extras. You never know when he might need them."

"More often than you think," Jack agreed.

_It's a shame how many Jack Harkness innuendos I had to cut out in this story. They are always so tempting. Jack says something inappropriate, the Doctor gets embarrassed/flustered, Mycroft is exasperated, Sherlock is confused and tries to understand what Jack was talking about which leads to more embarrassment and frustration. Here's one conversation that I cut out of Chapter 22, before the Doctor picks River up from their date._

"Soooo," Jack teasingly said, "A date night. You and River going to do some dancing?"

He jokingly swung his hips back and forth.

"Blimey," Mycroft muttered, "I did _not_ need to hear that!"

The eldest Holmes brother had been slightly confused before immensely embarrassed when he had first read about 'dancing' in the Doctor's journals.

The Doctor suddenly became preoccupied with a button on the console. Jack smirked at his embarrassment, looking triumphant.

Sherlock looked confused and asked, "What's wrong? The Doctor dances all the time!"

Mycroft groaned and buried his face in his hands. The Doctor, if possible, grew redder and Jack threw his head back, cracking up.

Sherlock frowned and continued, "What? He does! He dances in the console room—"

"Sherlock, stop talking," Mycroft muttered as the Doctor repeatedly banged his head against the console and Jack clutched his side from laughing.

Sherlock was growing frustrated from not understanding. He exasperatedly glanced around and snapped, "He and Jack danced the other day—"

This was too much for Jack, who collapsed onto all fours, howling with laughter.

"Jack wanted to!"

"Sherlock…please…stop…talking!" Mycroft pleaded.

"The YMCA song was on!" Sherlock cried before roaring, "What?"

The Doctor was as red as his bowtie as he replied, "Nothing, Sherlock. Nothing…"

"You still didn't answer my question," Jack gasped from the floor.

"I plead the fifth," the Doctor shortly said, "Mycroft, breathe…"

"Sorry, Doctor," Mycroft muttered.

_You know what? The more I think about it, I would love to see Jack and the Doctor go to a nightclub together. With River and the boys. Hey, this is an anything-goes chapter, right?_

Mycroft wearily glanced around the nightclub. A few people were at the bar, happily sipping away. A greasy bartender went towards the tap. River smirked and clicked her Sonic, causing the tap to malfunction and spray beer everywhere.

Sherlock and Mycroft cracked up.

"Alright," Mycroft exclaimed, "Is there any particular reason that we had to come to the sleaziest nightclub in London?"

"Because the Doctor and Jack were kicked out of everywhere else," River promptly replied, "Besides, it's karaoke night."

"Where are the Doctor and Jack?" Sherlock suddenly asked, looking around.

"Didn't you hear me, Sherlock?" River said with a wry smile, "It's karaoke night."

A piano began to play as the Doctor and Jack walked onto the stage, wearing disco-like costumes; sequins and all.

"Oh boy," Mycroft said.

The Doctor raised his microphone and began to sing in a high-pitched voice:

_At first, I was afraid, I was petrified_

_Kept thinking, I could never live without you by my side_

_But then I spent so many nights thinking, how you did me wrong_

_And I grew strong, and I learned how to get along_

Mycroft and Sherlock glanced at each other, thoroughly skeptical but not really surprised.

Jack grinned and sang:

_And so you're back from outer space_

_I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face_

_I should have changed that stupid lock_

_I should have made you leave your key_

_If I'd known for just one second you'd be back to bother me_

"What is going on?" Mycroft whispered. The Doctor took over the next part:

_Go on now, go, walk out the door, just turn around now_

_'Cause you're not welcome anymore_

_Weren't you the one, who tried to hurt me with goodbye?_

_Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die?_

Jack belted out the chorus:

_Oh, no, not I, I will survive_

"Fitting," Sherlock admitted, slightly impressed. Mycroft nodded, resigned and now accepting that he was watching the Doctor and Jack sing in a bar in London.

_Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive_

_I've got all my life to live, I've got all my love to give_

_And I'll survive, I will survive, hey, hey_

"Tell me again how the Doctor is your _husband_?" Mycroft teasingly asked River.

She threw her head back and laughed before exclaiming, "Honestly, what's the universe coming to when a Time Lord can't sing karaoke with a pansexual immortal man while wearing sequins, without his sexuality being questioned?"

_Yeah…well anyway, there are still a few more drabbles left! I wanted a few more Doctor-Mycroft-father-son-type-moments. Here's one that was supposed to be a day or two after Sherlock's birthday. AKA: the shaving lesson._

Sherlock chuckled and flipped out the magnifier. He glanced at random things before suddenly snickering, "Mycroft has a moustache."

"What?" Mycroft skeptically cried.

"Let me see that," River chuckled, glancing through the magnifier, "Yep. You sure do."

"I do not!"

The Doctor grinned and pulled down a mirror. He spread his fingers so that the mirror zoomed in and showed it to Mycroft. Mycroft could just make out the beginnings of stubble.

"Not bad," Jack teased, "Not bad at all."

Mycroft rolled his eyes and said, "It's a bit of stubble. Not to mention the fact that it has to be viewed through 50x magnification."

He glanced back in the mirror and saw that his ears were quite red.

"How do you shave?" Mycroft wondered aloud.

"I don't think that it's shave-able," Jack pointed out with a laugh.

"No," Mycroft agreed, "But there may come a time when this is actually visible to the human eye. What happens then?"

He glanced around and River snorted, "Don't look at me."

"A shaving lesson," the Doctor suddenly exclaimed, looking both touched and delighted at the prospect. He rummaged around in his pockets before pulling out an ordinary razor.

"Right," he boomed, "First…you take one of these."

He then crossed to the door, opened it, and promptly threw the razor outside, "Then you toss it away because those are very dangerous and time-consuming."

He whirled back around and cheerfully cried, "Next, you pull out this!"

He pulled several objects out of his pocket, handing them to Sherlock. He finally pulled out an object that looked somewhat similar to the Sonic Screwdriver.

"What is it?" Mycroft wearily asked.

"Sonic Razor," the Doctor excitedly boomed, "My own invention!"

Mycroft glanced over at Jack who shrugged and said, "It's what I use."

"Right," Mycroft slowly said, "Well, between the choices of one of your inventions or a razor, I think that I would choose the sharp blade."

"Fair enough," the Doctor said with a grin.

_And here's one that's set right around the point of the story that we are currently at: around five months into their adventures._

"Mycroft—"

"Don't yell at me!"

"I'm not yelling," the Doctor calmly said, "Not at all. You're the one who's yelling; quite loudly, if I might add. Now…"

"You don't have to say it," Mycroft growled.

The Doctor continued in his soothing tone, "I just want your input. Where do you think that you went wrong?"

"I don't know," Mycroft angrily huffed, "I'm pretty sure that the car isn't supposed to be upside-down!"

"That's a good observation," the Doctor gently agreed, "And you're right. In my experience, cars usually are _not_ supposed to be upside-down."

Mycroft shot him a quick glare and the Doctor gently continued, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine, Doctor!"

"No injuries?"

"I'm fine!" Mycroft snapped before softening and asking, "Are _you_ okay?"

"Well, to be perfectly honest," the Time Lord said, "The blood seems to be rushing to my head. Might we make our way outside?"

Mycroft agreed and the two unbuckled their seatbelts, pushing their way out of the flipped car. Mycroft wasn't quite sure how he had managed to flip the car. One moment, the Doctor was showing him the buttons to the seat warmer. The next, they were swerving and then they were tipping and the Doctor was shouting something about crumpets. Mycroft had been dazed for a moment, but otherwise unhurt.

"All right?" Sherlock anxiously asked, running up the dirt road.

"Fine, fine," the Doctor cheerfully said, "Had a bit of a glitch."

"A bit," Sherlock said, staring at the overturned vehicle.

"Doctor?" Mycroft casually asked.

"Yes, Mycroft?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course!"

"Do you know how to drive?"

"Not at all," the Doctor replied, "I told you to put the key in the key-thingy, to move the stick-thingy to the stick-thingy position, turn the wheely-wheely thingy, honk the horn, and push one of the pedals. The fact that you even stayed in a vehicle with me is both impressive and slightly concerning."

"You're a twelve-hundred year old Time Lord!" Mycroft cried, "I thought that if anyone knew how to operate a simple car."

"At least I've never overturned one," the Doctor replied, "Well, that's not true…there was that one time that Jack and I stole a moon buggy and…well, you don't need to know about that. Anyway, I have the Tardis. I don't need to drive!"

He gestured to the blue police box that was sitting nearby. As if on cue, they heard a phone begin to ring. The Doctor pulled the door open and clicked the Sonic to put it on speakerphone.

"Doctor," Jack cheerfully said, "Hey!"

"Hi, Jack," the Doctor replied, confused, "What's up?"

"You wouldn't happen to know where my car is, would you?"

"Your car…" the Doctor repeated, glancing at the overturned vehicle.

"Yeah, the one that was in my driveway."

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

_I was originally going to have a chapter after Mrs. Holmes' death where the Doctor was going to take the boys to a safari, only to find that many of the larger animals are dying. It really hits the brothers: Sherlock because of the way that the Doctor acts and Mycroft because he had to just watch his mother die. I thought that it was a bit too mushy/depressing. One thing led to another and it eventually turned into the chapter before Mrs. Holmes' death where they fight off the poachers. But here was part of the original where Sherlock, Mycroft, the Doctor, and a veterinarian are all crowded around a dying elephant._

"We should give her some privacy," the veterinarian softly said, "Just…just in case…"

"In case…?" Sherlock asked.

The Doctor hesitated before brightly saying, "In case…in case she ends up making a full recovery. We don't want to miss that."

"Doctor," Mycroft quietly said.

Sherlock reeled back, looking both shocked and hurt.

"We'll go inside and wait," the Doctor cheerfully said, "Wait for her to get better."

"Doctor, stop it!" Mycroft angrily said.

The Doctor paused, startled by Mycroft's tone. He was even more surprised as Sherlock gave him a piercing look and heatedly asked, "Which one is it, Doctor?"

The Doctor was thrown off by the question and stammered, "Wh…what?"

"Are we supposed to be brilliant?" Sherlock clarified, "Or are we supposed to be naïve?"

"What…?"

"Doctor," Mycroft pressed, "We've been through this before."

When he saw that the Doctor didn't look any less confused, he continued, "This! We've been through this. We know what it's like to watch somebody be sick. We know what could happen. Sherlock was just trying to get somebody to admit it."

The Doctor sighed as he realized his mistake. He hesitated before gently saying "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, boys. And for the record…brilliant. You're supposed to be brilliant; you two are brilliant."

Sherlock and Mycroft grinned at that.

_Let's skip forward to another small scene later that night._

Mycroft slipped on a raincoat and walked outside. He slipped over the gate and walked over to Tembo. _Sherlock named the elephant. It means elephant in Swahili. Yeah…_

"Come on," Mycroft whispered, "Come on! You can do this."

Her breathing was shallow and ragged. She glanced at him with a beady eye. He gently placed a hand on her side.

"Come on!" Mycroft repeated, "Get up! You have to get up."

In a desperate and naïve moment, he leaned against the elephant, as if hoping that he could push the large animal to her feet.

"You're going to be alright, Tembo. You just need to stand up."

She merely blinked at him. Mycroft leaned against her with all of his weight. He didn't care that he was getting soaked.

"Please, Tembo…"

In fact, Mycroft only came away from the elephant when somebody gently but firmly pulled him away. Mycroft blindly turned into the Doctor's coat—because who else could it be?

The Doctor hugged him and gently asked, "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Mycroft muttered, breaking away, "It's a hobby of mine: having one-sided arguments with elephants, in the dead of night, while getting completely soaked by rain."

"Personally," the Doctor lightly admitted, "I would prefer chess. To each their own."

Mycroft didn't laugh. His cheeks flamed with embarrassment as he asked, "Blimey, what's wrong with me?"

"Nothing," the Doctor said, shocked by the thought, "It's perfectly normal to…"

"To think that I can save an elephant?" Mycroft challenged, "To be devastated by the prospect that I can't save it? That's not normal, Doctor. That's borderline-psychotic."

"That depends on what your definition of normal is," the Doctor quietly said, putting both hands on Mycroft's shoulders, "Frankly, the fact that you don't want to watch someone else suffer from an illness and die seems perfectly normal to me."

Mycroft contemplated this, wrenching rain from his shirt before mumbling, "Where did you even come from?"

The Doctor looked confused by the question and slowly said, "Well, I originally came from Gallifrey…"

"No," Mycroft quickly said, "I mean…how do you always know where we are and what we're doing and when we need help? It seems like…no matter where we go or what we do, you're always there. How is it that you are always there when we need you?"

He meant it as a compliment and the Doctor took it as one before joking, "Would you rather that I not be there?"

"No," Mycroft laughed, "It's just…always impressive."

"Parental instinct," the Doctor grinned.

In reality, he had gone to check on the boys when he realized that Mycroft wasn't in his bed. He had raced into the main room, tripped over a table, crashed into a cage of reptiles, tripped over his own feet, and nearly slipped on the rain-soaked porch before finally spotting the eldest Holmes brother. He had then calmly slowed to a walking position and had smoothly gone over, pulling the boy away from the elephant.

_Speaking of random/emotional moments that I cut out, I also had two different scenarios where Mycroft ended up bumping into Wilf/Donna. In both scenarios, Sherlock ended up overloading the food-box on the console. _

_In Donna's scenario, Mycroft and Sherlock are at the store, buying groceries:_

Mycroft hastily went around the corner, aiming to get the milk.

In doing so, he accidentally bumped into a woman.

"Oh, sorry," Mycroft quickly said, "I was just…"

The rest of his sentenced faded into a harsh gasp as he stared at the woman.

He immediately recognized her from the Doctor's journals.

No. It couldn't be her. All of the women in London and he had to run into _her_…

"What are you on about?" Donna Noble snapped, "Hello? Are you alright?"

"I…I…I…" Mycroft stammered.

"Well go on, then," Donna cried, "If you're that anxious to get to the milk!"

"I'm sorry," Mycroft mumbled, "I'm…I'm so sorry."

Donna softened and remarked, "It's alright, really. Go on."

"Mycroft?" Sherlock called, impatiently coming up the aisle, "Come on! We need to get back to the—"

Mycroft leapt forward and clamped his hand over his brother's mouth. Sherlock pulled away, looking both surprised and angry as he cried, "What are you doing?"

"What _are_ you doing?" Donna suspiciously asked, "Who are you?"

"Come on," Mycroft muttered, grabbing Sherlock's hand, "We need to go. Now!"

"What?" Sherlock cried.

"Shut up," Mycroft hissed, "Come on!"

"But we haven't even paid!" Sherlock frantically pointed out.

"Drop it," Mycroft gasped, "Drop everything!"

"What?"

"Drop everything!"

Sherlock obeyed, amazing by his brother's tone. The two burst outside and raced up the alleyway where the Tardis was waiting.

Mycroft flung the door open and they quickly entered.

"That was quick," the Doctor happily exclaimed before asking, "What's wrong?"

"Mycroft's gone round the bend!" Sherlock wildly cried.

"We need to get out of here!" Mycroft wheezed, "Go! GO!"

"Okay," the Doctor frantically cried, hitting a button, "Mycroft, what's wrong?"

Mycroft's adrenaline crashed and he sank to the floor. The Doctor knelt down and put his hands on the shaking boy's shoulders, repeating, "What's wrong?"

Mycroft didn't answer, not wanting to upset him.

The Doctor turned to Sherlock who shrugged and said, "Don't look at me. I don't know what happened. He was talking to somebody and then he was stammering and then he grabbed my hand and told me to drop everything and now we're here!"

"It's nothing," Mycroft shakily said, "I just…I…"

He broke off.

"Mycroft, you look as though you've seen a ghost," the Doctor pointed out, "Who were you talking to?"

Mycroft looked away.

"Talk to me, Mycroft," the Doctor quietly said, "Who did you see?"

Mycroft sighed and whispered, "Donna."

The Doctor closed his eyes and softly said, "Oh…Mycroft…"

"I'm sorry," Mycroft mumbled, slightly embarrassed, "I just…I didn't know what to do."

"It's okay," the Doctor gently said, "You did the right thing."

"Freaking out was the right thing?" Mycroft miserably asked.

The Doctor understandingly smiled and said, "The first time that I saw her after…you know…I dove out the window and hid in a nearby dumpster. River had to come get me."

Mycroft weakly chuckled and mumbled, "She was…amazing."

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, "She was. She still is. And so are you. And so is Sherlock."

They didn't mention Donna for the rest of the night. Instead, the Doctor used his Sonic to make a humungous bowl of popcorn. The three then snuggled beneath a large blanket, watching an old movie. It was black and white and grainy but they didn't care. At one point, a large monster burst out of the mailbox and Sherlock flinched, leaning against the Doctor. The Doctor gently chuckled until a larger monster appeared. The two leapt back before quickly leaning against Mycroft. The oldest Holmes brother laughed, buckling beneath their weight. The three fell on the ground, laughing still tangled in the blanket. Sherlock elbowed the large bowl, causing it to spill all over them.

_And you know, I really wish that I was a good drawer. Is anyone out there an artist or willing to draw? Because there are some parts of this story that I can imagine perfectly: the three huddling beneath the blanket, watching the scary movie…the three sprawled on the floor…in the next chapter, there's going to be a moment when Sherlock, Mycroft, River, Jack, and the Doctor are all sitting in a tree…when the Doctor and the brothers are sitting in the doorway of the Tardis, flying kites…when the Doctor and Mycroft are sitting on top of the Tardis the first time that they met…Mycroft putting his arm around Sherlock's shoulders… the Doctor tightly hugging the brothers…the three of them on various adventures or just doing something as simple as staring at the stars…just the three of them together…Ahhhh! Would anyone be willing to draw any of that or just anything from this story? I would be immensely appreciative of anything that was drawn. Even if it was stick figures._

_Okay anyway here's the scenario with Wilf. In this one, Mycroft goes off to get the groceries without any trouble. It's coming back from the store where he runs into someone._

He pelted down the sidewalk. In his haste, he ended up crashing into an older gentleman.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Mycroft cried, glancing over his shoulder. What he saw caused him to stop in his tracks.

"You wouldn't be the first," the old man chuckled before concernedly asking, "Are you alright?"

Mycroft realized that he was staring but he couldn't help himself. He had seen the man before—in the Doctor's journals.

"Are you…are you…?" Mycroft stammered, "A…are you Mr. Motts? Wilfred Motts?"

"Yes," Wilf slowly said, "Have we met?"

Mycroft closed his eyes, realizing his mistake, and slowly said, "No, sir. But…I…"

He opened his eyes and Wilf knew. He was very kind as he said, "You're the Doctor's companion."

"Yes, sir."

"There's no need to call me 'sir'," Wilf laughed.

"Y…yes there is," Mycroft modestly mumbled, "Sir."

"Mycroft," the Doctor called, "Are you coming?"

He came around the corner and froze.

"Hello, Doctor."

"Wilf," the Doctor quietly said.

He took a hesitant step forward before racing over and hugging the old man. Wilf returned the hug with a joyous laugh.

"It's wonderful to see you," the Doctor cried.

"Same to you," Wilf chuckled, "Nice bowtie!"

The Doctor looked genuinely touched, as if he had just received the best compliment in the world. Which, Mycroft and Sherlock realized, he kind of had.

The Doctor then became solemn as he said, "How is…she…?"

"She's wonderful," Wilf gushed with a smile, "Doctor…I'm…I'm a…"

He hesitated before saying, "I'm just so happy to see you! I suppose that you're on an important mission? I don't want to impose…"

"Hang on," Mycroft called, rapidly thinking, "Err…we could actually use your help."

"What do you need?"

"Well," Mycroft slowly said, "My brother accidentally overloaded the food-dispenser on the console of the Tardis. And getting groceries is rather tedious and costly…"

"Do you need money?" Wilf kindly offered.

"No," the Doctor and Mycroft quickly said, the latter continuing, "No, though it's kind for you to offer. We actually need…a…screwdriver. To fix it. Do you have one?"

Wilf looked surprised and remarked, "Well, there's one on my pocket-knife but…"

"Yes," Mycroft quickly said, "That'll work. That's perfect."

"Happy to oblige," Wilf grinned, handing it over.

"Thank you," Mycroft said, "Except…well, we can't just stop by and return it."

"No, you can't," Wilf quietly agreed, "Keep it. My gift to you."

"Oh, I couldn't keep it," Mycroft quickly said, "Listen, I have an idea. Why don't you come with us? To the Tardis, that is."

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, catching on, "That way we can properly hand it back over."

Wilf looked suspicious for a moment before ultimately agreeing. He followed the two around the corner where he was once again reunited with the beautiful police box.

"Hello, you," Wilf gently said.

Sherlock opened the door, peering out.

"Oh, there's another one!" Wilf laughed.

"Where are my manners?" the Doctor cried, "Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes, this is Wilfred Motts."

"I know," Mycroft said, beaming.

The four entered the Tardis, closing the door behind them. Wilf appreciatively glanced around before handed his pocket-knife to Mycroft. The eldest Holmes brother stalled before awkwardly handing it to the Doctor. The Doctor hesitated before banging it against the console, much like a hammer.

"Ah, there," he cried, "It looks fixed."

"Are you sure?" Mycroft coaxingly asked, "Might we press a few buttons?"

"Absolutely," the Doctor agreed, "Let's just press this one…and pull this lever…"

The Tardis trembled and hummed.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Wilf?"

"Are you kidnapping me?"

"A little bit, yeah," the Doctor laughed.

He threw the doors open and continued, "Just thought that you'd want a quick view."

"Brilliant," Wilf whispered as they stared out at the universe.

The four stood in the doorway for some time, gazing at the stars.

Finally, Wilf whispered, "Doctor, I'm…I'm a great-grandfather."

The Doctor turned, absorbing this news, before suddenly letting out a cry of delight and hugging the old man.

"Congratulations!" Mycroft cried.

Sherlock also grinned, though he looked slightly confused by the news.

"Would you like to see him?" Wilf continued, "Donna should be getting her hair done so you'll have just enough time to…"

The Doctor was already hitting the button.

The Tardis landed in a nursery. Sylvia Noble was downstairs, preparing tea.

Wilf put a finger to his lips and whispered, "I'll leave you alone for a minute."

He quickly and quietly slipped out into the hallway.

Sherlock, Mycroft, and the Doctor could hear the faint sounds of a conversation:

"Dad, what was that noise?"

"Nothing, nothing."

The Doctor swallowed, crossing over to the small cot. The infant stared up at him with an intense curiosity. The Doctor gently picked him up, cradling him.

"Hello," the Doctor whispered, "I'm the Doctor."

Mycroft and Sherlock huddled in the doorway of the Tardis, smiling as they realized that the Time Lord was becoming quite sentimental.

"I'm the Space Man," the Doctor whispered, "Don't forget me…"

He kissed the top of the infant's head before placing him back in the cot. He then silently nodded and the three went back into the Tardis, gently closing the door.

"Don't forget me," the Doctor softly repeated, "Please don't forget me…"

"Doctor," Sherlock bracingly said, "Who could forget you?"

Mycroft's hands flew to his mouth and the Doctor closed his eyes.

"Doctor…" Mycroft whispered, bringing his hands down, "I'm sorry…"

"What?" Sherlock asked, looking alarmed, "Did I say something…?"

"It's okay," the Doctor gently said, reopening his eyes and pulling the brothers into a tight hug, "It's okay…"

_Well that actually turned out to be pretty depressing, didn't it? Speaking of another emotional scene, I recently learned about new evidence on Vincent van Gogh's death (yes, I know that it's only a myth but this is a story about two boys who travel with an alien in a blue box so sssshhhh) and seeing as how Vincent and the Doctor is my favorite episode, I decided to write this moment._

"Mycroft," Sherlock whispered, "I can't sleep."

"Neither can I," Mycroft sighed, "Come on. Let's see what the Doctor's doing."

The two crept down the corridor, towards the console room. Upon approaching the room, however, they heard the sounds of somebody crying and River whispering, "It's okay, Sweetie."

Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged confused glances and hurried into the room. Sure enough, the Doctor was bent over the console, wiping tears from his eyes. River was standing next to him, comforting him. The site was enough to cause the brothers to stop. In the five months that they had traveled with the Doctor, they had never actually seen him cry.

"Doctor!" Sherlock cried out.

The Doctor jerked up and quickly stammered, "S…Sherlock. Mycroft…what's wrong?"

"I could ask the same of you," Mycroft pointed out, shocked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," the Doctor admitted, giving them a watery smile, "Why do you ask?"

"Well…" Sherlock slowly said, "There's the whole matter of you…crying."

"Tears of joy," the Doctor quickly assured him and the brothers realized that his smile was genuine.

"Over what?" Mycroft asked.

The Doctor was too emotional to explain so River took over, "I was just as the Musée d'Orsay and I saw something…some news about Vincent."

"What news?" Mycroft asked, amazed. He, of course, had read all about the Doctor and Amy's adventure with Vincent van Gogh. It was one of his favorite journals.

"He was killed," River said with a smile.

"That's…what?" Sherlock asked, scratching his head.

Mycroft was also confused.

"He was killed," River continued, "A couple of school boys were in a field and one of their guns went off, shooting him."

"Well, that's cheery," Sherlock muttered and Mycroft pointedly nudged him.

"Vincent didn't want them to get into trouble so he never told anyone," River continued with a smile, "He was killed."

"I…I don't understand…" Mycroft sadly admitted.

"A fixed point in time," the Doctor softly said, "Remember, Mycroft? I can't change the fact that a person dies but I can change _how_ they die."

Mycroft's eyes widened as it sunk in, "He was killed. He…he didn't…? So you and Amy actually did change something in his life!? And time just rewrote itself…DOCTOR!'

The Doctor laughed as Mycroft excitedly raced forward, hugging the Time Lord.

"That's amazing!" Mycroft cried, pulling back, "That's…brilliant!"

"Oh, and I brought you this," River declared, "A new painting that was discovered in September, 2013. Look…"

In the left corner of the beautiful field was the blue police box.

"That's amazing," Sherlock whispered.

The Doctor proudly hung it up on top of the console, right next to the drawing that Sherlock had made for him several months ago. Sherlock grinned; he had almost forgotten that it was there.

The Doctor wiped his eyes and River whispered, "Mum would be proud, Sweetie."

She leaned forward and gently kissed him. The Doctor beamed with pride and brought the three of them in for a group hug.

_Cause it's all about your cries and kisses. Those first steps that I can't calculate. I need some more of you to take me over. I know I because I can't calculate how to start again…_

_Okay this chapter is getting really long and emotional. But before I cut it short, I got a very special request by CaptainXena-Mation: I was wondering if you could make someone (Sherlock or Mycroft) fall out of the TARDIS while it's hovering above the earth, and then the have to somehow catch them before they fall to their doom!_

_Well two scenarios came to mind. The second one emerged from when I was messaging you, wondering about that pesky gravity/oxygen. You suggested that they be close enough to the planet where they didn't need it. I thought about it for a while and came up with this. Hope you like it!_

_Scenario One_

"Are you ready?"

"No," Sherlock and Mycroft nervously replied.

"Hey," the Doctor laughed, "You two wanted to take a spacewalk!"

"Don't worry," Jack's voice buzzed in their ear, "I'm monitoring everything down here."

"How much equipment does Torchwood have?" Mycroft chuckled.

"We all have Psychic Credit Cards," Jack explained.

"And nobody cares that you're using that equipment to help us take a spacewalk?"

"Well, I never said that this was _legal_," Jack laughed, "So if anyone asks…I don't know you and you don't know me!"

"Why would somebody ask us that?" Sherlock asked.

"Ahh, Sherlock," Jack chuckled, "Someday you'll understand sarcasm."

The two brothers inched to the edge of the doorway. They had stood there dozens of times before but this caused their stomachs to flip. They were standing above the earth. It was surreal. Mycroft swallowed and glanced at Sherlock. Despite the astronaut helmet (the Doctor wanted to ensure that they would still have oxygen) Mycroft could see that his brother was extremely pale. The Doctor bracingly put his arms around them and cried, "Geronimo!"

The three stepped forward, into the vacuum of space. The brothers began to rapidly breathe before realizing that they were going to be alright. They each had a rope attached to them, which tensed before they got too far. Sherlock was the first one to let out a nervous bubble of laughter. The Doctor beamed and Mycroft finally grinned. They floated around in the stars and though they were only several yards away from the blue box, it was still surreal.

"Jack, we're flying!" Sherlock excitedly cried.

Down in Cardiff, Jack laughed at their enthusiasm. He was in a large control room, monitoring them with a camera that the Doctor had installed on the outside of the Tardis. He was also tracking several satellites to make sure that nothing would come in their path.

"Doctor, watch this!" Sherlock squealed, doing a somersault.

The Doctor smiled before exclaiming, "Careful, Sherlock! The rope can only take so much tension!"

"Yeah, yeah," Sherlock dismissed the warning and did another flip.

"Easy, Sherlock," Mycroft cried, "Listen to the Doctor!"

Down below, Jack frowned and said, "Easy, Sherlock."

"This is brilliant!" Sherlock squealed, "I can do anything!"

He did several more rambunctious moves.

"Sherlock," the Doctor warned.

"It's amazing!" Sherlock carelessly continued, "I'm invincible!"

He recklessly lurched and something suddenly snapped. Mycroft screamed as his brother's rope broke. For a split second, Sherlock merely floated in place. His eyes were wide with wonder and fear as he tried to understand what was going on.

"Mycroft?" Sherlock whispered before suddenly being pulled back. It was as if an invisible hand was dragging him towards the earth.

"SHERLOCK!"

Mycroft frantically fought against his restraints. The Doctor grabbed him around the waist, dragging him back towards the Tardis. Mycroft let out a raspy gasp as he watched the silhouette of his brother zoom towards the earth. His scream was lost on his lips.

"Do something," he gasped, "Doctor, do something!"

Sherlock was rapidly losing consciousness as he tumbled around and around, crashing through blankets of clouds. It was as if he was skydiving from the world's highest plane. Only he didn't have anything to break his fall. He couldn't hear or see anything. He wasn't sure where he was. What was up and what was down?

And suddenly Jack was somehow falling above him. He had used his vortex manipulator to lock onto Sherlock's coordinates. Jack managed to grab him in midair and shout, "Hang on!"

He pulled a string and a parachute billowed out. Sherlock had enough sense to tightly cling onto his neck. He was only half-conscious but he wasn't about to let go.

"It's okay," Jack was saying, "It's okay, Sherlock."

Sherlock forced himself to open his eyes. What he saw caused his jaw to crash to the bottom of his astronaut helmet. They were so high up. A beautiful forest was spread out below but the trees were merely green dots. It was breathtaking.

And suddenly the Tardis was there. It was angled so that Jack and Sherlock were able to fall right through the doorway and into the swimming pool. They both resurfaced, pale and gasping for breath. Sherlock was still tightly clinging onto Jack's neck. He let go just long enough to wrap them around the Doctor's neck as Jack gently handed him over. Mycroft leaned against the wall, paralyzed with fear.

Sherlock trembled in the Doctor's arms, leaning against his chest. The Doctor pulled his helmet off and quickly checked to make sure that he was physically alright. He was; just incredibly shaken. Sherlock realized that the Doctor was just as pale as he was.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock croaked, "I'm so sorry, Doctor. I'm sorry."

He repeated the two words several times but the Doctor didn't hear any of it. The Time Lord let out a huge sigh of relief as he realized that everything was alright.

"You idiot," Mycroft finally wheezed, "W…wh…what were you thinking?"

"Come here," the Doctor gently said. He used one arm to still hold up Sherlock but extended the other, inviting Mycroft to come over. The Doctor tightly hugged the Holmes brothers, until they stopped shaking, until they realized that everything was going to be alright.

The Doctor then turned and helped a grinning Jack from the pool. The three couldn't find the words to thank him but he understood. He ruffled Sherlock's curls and the youngest Holmes brother apologized again.

"Nah, don't worry about it," Jack easily said, "That was fun! I should try that again but without the parachute. You excluded, of course."

"I'm never doing anything like that again," Sherlock assured him, anxiously burying his face in the Doctor's neck, "I hate falling."

Mycroft shakily laughed and said, "Well, it's a good thing that the Doctor, River, and Jack are always there to catch you when you fall."

Jack and the Doctor exchanged a dark look at that but didn't say anything.

"I'm so sorry, Doctor," Sherlock repeated, causing the Doctor to snap out of his thoughts.

"Hey, hey," the Doctor gently said, "I forgive you, Sherlock. You learned your lesson."

Sherlock smiled at that and repeated the Doctor's words from several months ago:

"It's an interesting life lesson."

_You asked for a drabble where one of the Holmes brothers falls! You must have known that I would sneak a Reichenbach reference in there! And here's Scenario Two, before I knew how gravity and oxygen were going to be a factor. In this one, Sherlock just tumbles into a vacuum of space. And again, Jack saves him. He is immortal, after all. Again, this is a completely different scenario. Imagine that the four are in the console room staring at the stars or flying kites or something along those lines._

A meteor suddenly hit the side of the Tardis. The Doctor, Mycroft, and Jack were thrown backwards but Sherlock ended up toppling over the edge of the doorway.

"SHERLOCK! SHERLOCK!"

"MYCROFT!"

Sherlock was clinging onto the top of the doorway. His body shot out to the stars, as gravity ceased to press down onto it. His eyes were wide and the color had drained from his face.

The three leapt to their feet. Mycroft raced forward and grabbed his brother's hand.

Unfortunately, it slipped away.

"Mycroft?" Sherlock whispered, seconds before he went tumbling towards the stars.

"NO!"

The Doctor's scream outweighed Mycroft's as the Time Lord raced forward. Jack wrenched the cupboard door open, grabbing something and throwing it onto his back. He then raced forward, pushed past Mycroft and the Doctor, and promptly dove out of the Tardis.

"Jack!"

"JACK! SHERLOCK!"

Mycroft screamed until nothing came out. The Doctor grabbed him and held him close, both to comfort him and keep another Holmes brother from falling out.

Meanwhile, Jack was doing a weird swimming movement to try and fight the lack of gravity and get to Sherlock.

The poor boy was ashen. His eyes were closed and he looked like a puppet caught in a draft. Jack realized that it was the early signs of hypoxia. They must have already escaped the oxygen bubble. Jack wasn't affected as much; another side-effect of being immortal. When he went without oxygen for a great period of time, such as the time that he accidentally overshot the Tardis, he would eventually pass out. But he had time. He had time to save Sherlock.

Jack finally reached the youngest Holmes brother. Sherlock was now completely limp and for a moment, Jack was afraid that he was gone. He frantically performed CPR, still tumbling around in the vacuum of space. He then grabbed the item from his back; an oxygen tank that was attached to a mask. He gently placed it over Sherlock's nose and mouth and turned the oxygen on. After several tense minutes, Sherlock's eyes fluttered open.

"Sherlock," Jack gasped, briefly marveling the fact that he could actually talk in a vacuum of space, "It's okay. Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine."

On the contrary, Sherlock didn't look that alarmed. His eyes widened, not with fear but with wonder as he looked around. They were, after all, floating amongst the stars. Jack allowed ten seconds for him to look around but not a second more. Jack was starting to get dizzy and he wasn't about to vomit in a vacuum of space. Besides, the oxygen tank was just a band-aid solution. He tightly held onto Sherlock and moved back towards the Tardis.

The Doctor and Mycroft both reached out and pulled them inside. Jack immediately collapsed onto all fours. Sherlock would have collapsed as well. He was saved as the Doctor and his brother were tightly hugging him. He trembled as the aftershock and adrenaline hit him.

The Doctor immediately began fussing.

"Sherlock? Are you okay? Can you breathe?"

"I'm fine," Sherlock croaked, still trembling.

The Doctor took out his Sonic, scanning various parts of his body.

"There's no…damage, is there?" Mycroft weakly asked.

The Doctor shook his head, still tightly hugging Sherlock, and murmured, "He was only without oxygen for a few seconds. Twenty at the most."

He rested his chin on the crown of Sherlock's head, looking extremely pale at the thought of what could have happened. Once he and Mycroft realized that Sherlock was shaken, but fine, they spun around to thank Jack. Unfortunately, Jack was still on all fours. He looked extremely nauseous, though he was trying to hide it.

"Jack?"

The Doctor knelt down next to him and worriedly asked, "All right?"

"Fine," Jack wheezed, "Just…you know…"

The Doctor solemnly nodded before anxiously asking, "No damage, though?"

"Nah," Jack assured him, waving his hand, "It takes more than a few minutes without oxygen to cause any harm. Might be a few lost brain cells though…"

"What brain cells?" the Doctor weakly chuckled.

He pulled Jack to his feet and into a tight hug. The immortal man was touched and returned it, laughing out of habit.

"Thank you, Jack," the Doctor softly said.

"Doctor," Jack beamed, "You never have to thank me."

_Okay well we have officially reached twenty pages and most of my chapters linger around seven or eight pages. So I am officially ending the drabble chapter. Thanks to everyone who submitted requests…cricket noises…okay thank you Captain Xena-Mation for the great request. I hope that you liked it. Actually, the next chapter is going to be a request. It's a request from my eleven-year old brother who has been my beta/supporter through this entire story. The two of us were talking and I told him how River, Jack, and the Doctor managed to pull the boys from school and he asked for a chapter where River and the Doctor accompany Sherlock and Mycroft to a Parent's Day festival, seeing as how Sherlock never got to go. The whole point is that he wanted River, the Doctor, Sherlock, and Mycroft to face off against Anderson and his family. And though I really didn't want to make Anderson a character as much as I wanted him to have just a few lines, I'm not going to deny my brother's request. So, yes…Parent's Day…_


	31. Chapter 31

_Out in the garden where we planted the seeds_

_There is a tree as old as me_

_Branches were sewn by the color of green_

_Ground had arose and passed its knees_

_By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top_

_I climbed the tree to see the world_

_When the gusts came around to blow me down_

_Held on as tightly as you held onto me_

_Held on as tightly as you held onto me..._

_And I built a home for you, for me_

Chapter Thirty-One

"And _that_ is the story of Attila the Hun!"

Mycroft and Sherlock leaned against the door, trying to keep the ruthless ruler from barging in. The Doctor cheerfully hit a button on the console and they were off.

Mycroft sighed with relief before saying, "Nice lesson, Doctor."

"Yeah," Sherlock cried, "That was fun!"

The Doctor smiled and teased, "More fun than primary school?"

"Absolutely!" Sherlock enthusiastically said, "I never want to go back to that place."

"Oh, come on," Mycroft muttered, "It wasn't _that_ bad."

"Yes, it was," Sherlock insisted, "Nothing good came from going to that school."

The Doctor looked thoughtful as he said, "There must have been some moments that were fun! Were there any parties or festivals?"

"Nope," Sherlock dully said.

"Well…" Mycroft hesitated.

"No relevant festivals," Sherlock interjected, in a voice that asked for a new topic.

The Doctor arched an eyebrow and repeated, "Relevant festivals?"

A dark shadow crossed Sherlock's face and he muttered, "It's not important, really."

Mycroft squeezed his brother's arm, earning a sharp glare.

The Doctor quietly spoke up, "What festival wasn't relevant?"

"Don't," Mycroft sighed, "Can't we just let this one go?"

"Oh, Mycroft," the Doctor exclaimed, "Of _course_ we can't!"

Sherlock picked up his violin and began to play, refusing to say anything else.

The Doctor sighed and quietly pointed out, "You two know that I'm going to find out sooner or later. So, what's it going to be?"

"Later," Mycroft and Sherlock both chorused.

"Fair enough."

Mycroft picked up a book and began to read. The Doctor folded his hands and calmly waited for the brothers to break out of their introverted shells.

Five minutes passed before Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged wearisome glances.

"Parent's Day," Sherlock finally muttered, rapidly scraping his bow against the strings.

The Doctor cringed, though they couldn't tell if it was from the noise or the exclamation.

"Like I said," Sherlock mumbled, "No relevant festivals."

He then became thoughtful as he added, "Well…they were relevant to Mycroft. At least he got to go to a few."

Mycroft suddenly felt a strange sense of guilt. His mother had taken him to Parent's Day every year until she couldn't. Sherlock had been too young…The Doctor caught his eye and gave him a comforting smile. Sherlock closed his eyes and recommenced playing the violin. The Time Lord looked over and frowned before asking, "There's more to it, isn't there?"

Sherlock sighed and muttered, "Well…some kids in my class thought that it was funny."

The Doctor's frown deepened and he asked, "What did they think was funny?"

Mycroft also arched an eyebrow. Sherlock had never mentioned this before.

"Just…you know," Sherlock mumbled, "How I wasn't able to go to any of them."

"Which kids?" Mycroft demanded.

"Don't," Sherlock sighed, "Mycroft…"

"I just want to know."

"What're you going to do?" Sherlock asked with a coy smile, "Talk to their parents?"

"You're being evasive," Mycroft quietly pointed out.

"You're being overprotective," Sherlock pointed out.

The Doctor chuckled and intervened, "Alright, Sherlock. We won't press you."

In fact, the Doctor quickly dropped the matter. The three cheerfully spent the rest of the night using the heat of a nearby sun to roast marshmallows. When they went to bed, the Doctor tucked Sherlock in and ruffled Mycroft's hair. Everything was perfectly normal.

It wasn't until the next morning that the brothers became suspicious.

Their suspicions began when they heard someone shout, "AVAST! ON YOUR FEET!"

Mycroft opened his eyes and found himself staring at Gus and the rest of the pirates.

"Gus!" Mycroft gasped.

"Captain Mycroft!" Gus boomed.

"Gus!" Sherlock cried, hugging the gruff pirate.

Somebody knocked on the door and John Lennon poked his head in, "You might want to come along. The Doctor is practically jumping around with excitement."

"What?" Mycroft gasped, "John…what…what are you doing here?"

"Aren't you listening, Mycroft?" River asked, gently pushing past the Beatle and entering the bedroom, "We need to go! Quickly! Don't make me blast you!"

"What's going on?" Sherlock cried.

"It's a bit cold outside," Jack cheerfully answered, coming in after River, "Here you go."

He handed the bewildered brothers their peacoats. They pulled them over their pajamas, completely confused and half-asleep. River gently prodded them forward.

Mycroft yawned and Sherlock rubbed his eye, still clinging onto his stuffed bear. They entered the console room and the Doctor exclaimed, "Oh good! You're awake!"

"Yeah," Mycroft cried, "We're awake. What's going on?"

"No time to explain," the Doctor happily cried, "Come along!"

The group went outside. Mycroft blinked and realized that they were standing on the grounds of the school. Several tents and obstacles were set up. A large banner read:

PARENT'S DAY

The brothers glanced at the Doctor for an explanation.

"Well, River and I were talking about it," the Doctor humbly explained, "And we decided that…if you wanted to, that is…we could fill in for…you know…the four of us could…Only if you wanted to. We would completely understand if…"

"It sounds brilliant!" Sherlock interrupted.

"Doctor…thank you…" Mycroft whispered, touched.

The Doctor looked hopeful as he asked, "So, would you want to?"

"Of course we would," Sherlock cried.

The Doctor's face broke into a grin.

"That's good," River said with a smirk, "Because we already signed up. We even talked to that blasted Headmaster of yours. He agreed that he could make an exception and allow you to participate with the two of us filling in as your parents."

"He agreed to that?" Sherlock asked, surprised.

"Sure," River said with a smirk, "You forget, Sherlock; I can be very persuasive."

Sherlock cracked up.

"It sounds great, really," Mycroft spoke up, "But…that still doesn't explain the pirates or the Beatles or…Jack."

Jack grinned and explained, "Well, Piper informed the Doctor that family members were allowed to cheer you on."

"If anyone asks," the Doctor added, "You have a lot of uncles."

"Yeah," Mycroft snorted, "That's a good conversation starter. 'You should meet my uncle! He's John Lennon.'"

The Doctor laughed and exclaimed, "Why not?"

At that moment, Anderson and his mundane family passed by. Anderson snickered and teasingly asked, "You sleep with a teddy bear, Holmes?"

Sherlock flushed but before he could say anything, River smoothly yanked the bear from him and crossly remarked, "Of course he doesn't. _I_ do. Do you have a problem with that?"

Anderson slunk away and Sherlock whispered, "Thanks River."

"Don't mention it," River assured him, pocketing the bear.

Jack, the pirates, and the Beatles cheerfully entered the stands. The Doctor, River, and the brothers walked over to stand with the other families. Piper tapped a microphone and gave a dull speech about how he was honored to have parental involvement within the school.

The first obstacle seemed simple enough: a sack race.

Mycroft, River, and Sherlock smoothly hopped along and were the first to reach the finish line. The brothers triumphantly cheered.

"Sorry," Piper spoke up, "All four of you must be across the line."

The Doctor had fallen on his first hop. For a moment, he had merely remained face-down, as if completely giving up on the universe. He was now flopping around, desperately trying to get to them. The three tried not to laugh as they watched.

"You look like a bloody fish out of water!" Mycroft called.

"Very smooth, Sweetie," River cackled.

"Oh…shut…up," the Doctor laughed, failing around.

By the time he managed to reach them, the Andersons and another family had already managed to cross the line.

"Sorry," the Doctor mumbled, looking crestfallen.

"Who cares?" Sherlock laughed, "That was worth it!"

"It's not about winning," Mycroft pointed out.

"It's about watching you flail around like an idiot!" River finished, laughing.

The Doctor stuck out his tongue and attempted to get out of the sack, falling once more.

They finally went to the next obstacle. A colorful sign read: Water Balloon Throw.

The Doctor paired with Mycroft and River paired with Sherlock.

Mycroft stepped on the taped X and called, "Ready!"

The balloon hit him right in the face, drenching him. The Doctor had thrown the balloon as hard as he could.

"What was that?" Mycroft spluttered, cracking up.

The Doctor looked confused and pointed out, "Well, the sign said to throw it…"

"Back and forth!" Mycroft cried, "Not at each other!"

"Oooh," the Doctor slowly said.

"Oops," River spoke up.

Mycroft glanced over. Sherlock was completely dry. Anderson on the other hand…

Sherlock roared with laughter and Mycroft shook his head.

The four were the winners of the hula-hoop contest. River managed to impress everyone by hula-hooping five at a time. They also won the wheelbarrow contest and came in second in the pie-eating contest. They failed miserably at the jump-rope contest and had to spend five minutes untying the Doctor. Nobody won the Wacky Trikes race, as the Doctor managed to lose control and crash into everyone. Oddly enough, the Time Lord excelled at rapidly creating different towers out of plastic cups. Jack, the pirates, and the Beatles cheered them on. The brothers' stomachs hurt from laughing.

"Only two more obstacles to go!" Mycroft finally gasped, flushed with excitement.

"We're tied for first place!" Sherlock exclaimed, looking at the makeshift scoreboard.

As coincidental fate would have it, they were tied with the Andersons.

"The penultimate challenge is one of our favorites," Piper dully explained, "The families shall be participating in a rousing game of Tug O' War. The last two standing on either side will face our final challenge."

The Doctor stood in front of Mycroft who stood in front of Sherlock who stood in front of an amused River. The Andersons tugged and the Doctor went stumbling forward.

"Gah! Help me, Mycroft!"

He grabbed the startled boy and the two fell into the large mud puddle.

"Why did you grab me?" Mycroft laughed.

"I was hoping that you could help me," the Doctor cried, throwing more mud at him.

"What was I supposed to do?" Mycroft cracked up, "You're a lot stronger than I am!"

The Doctor laughed and admitted, "Alright, maybe it wasn't the best plan!"

He ducked as Mycroft swiped mud at him. The two wrestled around, even after Sherlock and River successfully brought Mrs. Anderson and her daughter into the mud. Both women screeched with horror and quickly leapt out.

"Looks like it's you and me against Anderson and his father," River told Sherlock with a devilish grin, "And we're not going to show any mercy!"

Sherlock grinned at the possibilities.

The two headed over to the stands, accepting bottles of water from Jack.

"Having fun, Sherlock?" Jack asked, smiling at the flush of excitement on the boy's face.

"This is brilliant!" Sherlock eagerly burst out.

Jack laughed and said, "I'm glad."

Sherlock struggled to open his water bottle. Gus tried to be helpful by taking out his sword and stabbing the plastic. Sherlock tried not to grin as he slowly said, "Thanks, Gus…"

"Oh sure," River cried, "I'm not allowed to take out my blaster but the pirate's allowed to take out his sword! Talk about double standards!"

She affectionately ruffled Sherlock's curls and added, "Drink up! A dehydrated troop doesn't do me any good."

"You're making it sound like we're at war!" Sherlock laughed.

"Aren't we?" River jokingly asked.

"Enemy troops approaching our territory," Jack quietly pointed out.

Sure enough, the Andersons were walking by. They hardly paid attention to the dysfunctional group and were instead talking about the prospect of winning.

"We have to win, Father!" Anderson snapped.

"I know, son."

"I'm not about to lose to a sociopathic freak who doesn't even have a real mother!"

Several things happened at once.

The smile slipped away from Sherlock's face and he reeled back, visibly hurt. River looked both shocked and outraged. Her eyes flashed and she clenched her fists, before realizing that Sherlock's lip was trembling. Jack cried out and leapt up. The pirates angrily roared out and the Beatles looked horrified. The Doctor and Mycroft came over, still chuckling over the mud incident. Their smiles immediately vanished as they surveyed the situation.

"Sherlock, what's wrong?" Mycroft asked, startled.

Sherlock didn't answer and instead walked away. Mycroft called his name but he kept marching on, furiously blinking.

The Doctor looked both concerned and confused as he asked, "What happened?"

River was too angry to speak.

Jack stepped forward and solemnly whispered in the Doctor's ear. The Time Lord's eyes widened and he gasped, "He didn't…"

"What?" Mycroft demanded, "What happened?"

The Doctor looked heartbroken as he murmured what Anderson had said. Mycroft's jaw dropped with horror. He then closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"He ought to walk the plank!" Gus angrily roared, "The bloody scoundrel!"

Paul and Ringo ducked as the pirate brandished his sword.

"Easy, Gus," Mycroft sighed, opening his eyes.

"Ay, Captain."

"I'll go after Sherlock," the Doctor softly said.

"No," Mycroft quietly disagreed, "I'll go. You might want to talk to River, though."

Mycroft miserably trudged after his brother. The Doctor sadly sighed before glancing at his wife. River was absentmindedly fingering her blaster, looking livid. He and Jack amusedly glanced at each other. The Doctor gently took her hand, carefully pulling it away from the blaster, as he teasingly asked, "Isn't it a bit early for murder, dear?"

River smirked and remarked, "Oh, no. I'd keep him alive. Much more painful."

The Doctor affectionately squeezed her hand and gently said, "Well, I'm sure that Sherlock would appreciate the thought but Piper and the police might not be as understanding."

"That's alright," River briskly said, "I know a good judge."

She glanced at Jack who snickered, "Seriously? I'd let you go to jail in a heartbeat!"

River thought about it for a split second before saying, "Worth it."

Jack grinned and offered, "Let's set the pirates on him."

The Doctor laughed and intervened, "We're at a school function! We can't talk about torturing children."

He then leaned forward and whispered, "But for the record, I would have stood right behind you as you blasted him."

River smiled and affectionately said, "I know. That's why I married you."

She kissed him and Jack chuckled.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow and defensively asked, "What?"

"Nothing, nothing," Jack said with a grin, "It's just...this is literally flirting for the two of you. I feel like I'm invading a moment."

"You are," the Doctor lightheartedly agreed, "But come along! We don't have time for romantic moments—"

"We never do," River interjected with a smile.

"We've got to go after the boys!"

Meanwhile, Sherlock was crestfallenly crossing the garden. He finally came to his favorite spot; the largest and oldest tree that he had ever known. Sherlock sat against one of its massive roots, drawing his knees to his chest. He closed his eyes, listening to the leaves rustle in the wind. For as long as he could remember, he had always gone to the tree. He would sit against it and think, until Mycroft came to take him home.

Sherlock opened his eyes, glancing up at the branches. He swallowed before slowly starting to climb. He slipped and stumbled a few times but he didn't stop. He used the cracks in the trunk as footholds before eventually inching out onto one of the branches. The small boy forced himself to look up, staring out at London. It wasn't a spectacular view but it was enough.

"Sherlock?"

Mycroft had arrived and was now worriedly looking around.

"Mycroft, look," Sherlock proudly called. He felt a strangely giddy. Climbing a tree when you had a fear of heights was the perfect way to get your adrenaline going.

Mycroft glanced up and his jaw dropped. He then calmly asked, "I suppose that you're going to make me come up after you?"

Sherlock merely grinned. Grunting, growling, and groaning, the eldest Holmes brother climbed up after Sherlock. He finally crawled out onto the branch before carefully positioning himself, sitting next to his brother.

"You've never actually climbed the tree before," Mycroft pointed out.

"I know," Sherlock joyfully agreed.

Mycroft waited for a moment before quietly saying, "Jack told us what Anderson said."

Sherlock immediately clammed up. The smile vanished and his eyes glazed over.

"I'm proud of you," Mycroft gently added.

Sherlock looked round and Mycroft continued, "You walked away. You came here, instead of causing a scene. You could have easily punched him."

"Yeah," Sherlock chuckled, "I could have."

"Why didn't you?" Mycroft blurted out.

Sherlock arched an eyebrow, looking amused, and Mycroft hastily continued, "I'm glad that you didn't, of course. But…"

"He's wrong and an idiot," Sherlock simply said, "River had already told me that I wasn't a sociopath and the Doctor has repeatedly told us that we were brilliant."

He then looked thoughtful as he whispered, "And the comment about Mummy… well… you should have seen River and Jack. They were immediately upset. I thought that River was going to blast him and that was the first time that I've ever seen Jack look angry."

"So," Mycroft slowly said, "You were waiting for them to do something?"

"No," Sherlock exasperatedly pressed, "Don't you see, Mycroft? They were upset. It's like when we had to go to that children's home a few weeks ago. They were upset! Because they care about us and so does the Doctor. They all care about us. So…Anderson's comment is irrelevant. Because even…even though Mummy is gone…and Father's…well…Father…we still have the Doctor…we still have River and Jack and the Tardis and…and Anderson's an idiot."

"Yeah," Mycroft agreed with a smile, "He is."

He reached over and put his arm around Sherlock's shoulders. Surprisingly, Sherlock didn't try to shrug away. Instead, the youngest Holmes brother smiled and accepted the embrace.

"Couldn't have said it better myself, Sherlock!"

The Doctor's head suddenly popped up next to them. He grinned and clumsily pulled himself onto the branch, nearly falling off. He finally ended up slipping into a koala-position.

"Are you okay?" Mycroft slowly and amusedly asked.

"Fine, fine," the Doctor exclaimed, "Let me just…there we go!"

He managed to pull himself up, sitting between the brothers with his arms draped around their shoulders. Down below, River snorted and Jack shook his head. The latter smoothly bounded up the tree trunk, landing on the other side of Sherlock.

"Show off," the Doctor muttered.

River merely whirled a grappling hook which landed several inches next to Mycroft. She grappled up, smoothly sitting next to him.

"Show off," the Doctor repeated before beginning to calmly rant, "Trees. I like trees. And just look at this tree. It's the biggest tree in the garden. The oldest tree. It's been around for hundreds of years. Protecting children for hundreds of years…"

"Sweetie," River gently said, "I love you but…why are you ranting about trees?"

"Because," the Doctor simply said, "It's a strong tree. It'll take a lot to blow it down."

River pondered that for a moment before saying, "That's why you use a chainsaw."

The Doctor burst out laughing and muttered, "Thanks, dear."

Mycroft and Sherlock appreciated the metaphor nonetheless.

"Thanks for doing all of this," Mycroft spoke up.

"It means a lot," Sherlock softly agreed.

"You never have to thank us," the Doctor gently reminded them.

"Yeah, we do," Mycroft slowly said, "I mean…I don't think that taking your companions to a Parents Day is part of the Time Lord job description."

The Doctor chuckled and said, "Nah, it's a perk."

"I'm serious," Mycroft pressed, "The three of you are usually out there protecting the universe and fighting anyone who threatens the universe and…well…"

He broke off, not quite sure how to put it.

"What Mycroft is saying," Sherlock spoke up, "Is that it always means a lot whenever you guys…whenever you set aside the entire universe to do something special for us."

Jack smiled at that and teasingly pointed out, "Well, growing up with your father, I can see how that takes you by surprise."

The brothers glanced at each other, confused.

The Doctor gently smiled and summarized, "Family comes before work."

Mycroft suddenly felt quite emotional. Their father couldn't even take time off for their birthdays and the Doctor was putting aside the entire universe to spend time with them. The brothers were more important than the universe. Not in an arrogant way but in a special way.

As Mycroft pondered this, he suddenly realized that he and Sherlock had followed the tradition of the past few companions, save for Donna.

They had fallen in love with the Doctor.

They loved the Time Lord. They loved River and Jack.

And the feeling was mutual.

On the other side of the Doctor, Sherlock was thinking the same thing. He swallowed and hastily wiped his eyes. Jack noticed and worriedly asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Sherlock mumbled, his ears pink, "It's just…Anderson's an idiot."

Mycroft couldn't help but to grin at that.

"Do you hear that?" Jack suddenly asked.

The Beatles had come over and were now singing below:

_What would you think if I sang out of tune?_

_Would you stand up and walk out on me?_

_Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,_

_And I'll try not to sing out of key._

_Oh I get by with a little help from my friends…_

"Oh great," Mycroft mumbled, "I'm already emotional enough…"

"Speaking of which," River spoke up, "Sentimental moments are great and all but…do you think that we can get back to the others? The chance to actually beat Anderson's family comes about once or twice in a lifetime!"

Sherlock would have agreed but looking down at the Beatles had reminded him that he was, in fact, in a tree. He swallowed and muttered, "We don't have to go down. Not right away!"

"River's right," Jack cried, "I want to see you two wipe the smirk off of his face."

Sherlock didn't answer and was instead staring down at the ground with a mixture of fear and dread. He made a soft noise and Mycroft sympathetically smiled.

"Sherlock," River brightly asked, "Can I ask you something?"

Sherlock nodded.

"Can you get down?"

Sherlock cheeks reddened but he didn't answer.

"Sherlock?"

He still remained silent and River laughed, "Does he always act this evasive…?"

"Yes," Mycroft, the Doctor, and Jack simultaneously remarked.

Sherlock glared at them before softly admitting, "I can't get down."

The Doctor gently smiled and went to help him.

"Err…Doctor," Sherlock softly said, "No offence but…can River help me, instead?"

The Doctor blinked and defensively cried, "What? Why?"

The Time Lord suddenly slipped and fell. Fortunately, Ringo inadvertently broke his fall.

"That's why," Sherlock weakly cried.

He held onto River as she safely grappled down. Jack and Mycroft slid down after them.

Paul, George, and John helped the Time Lord to his feet.

"All right?" Mycroft worriedly asked.

"Sure, sure," the Doctor exclaimed, "Falling's half the fun."

He paused before exasperatedly closing his eyes. River and Jack both gave him pressing and skeptical looks.

"That one was your fault, Sweetie," River finally muttered.

"And you yell at us for making remarks," Jack groaned.

"Sorry, sorry," the Doctor muttered,.

"Remarks about what?" Sherlock asked, confused.

"Fun," the Doctor cried, leaping to his feet, "And we're going to have it! Come along!"

They hurried back to the others.

"What is the final obstacle, anyway?" Sherlock wondered aloud.

"Paintball," Piper dully remarked.

The group stopped and the Doctor whispered, "You're kidding me…"

"What?" Piper asked.

"Paintball," Sherlock repeated, "Using blasters?"

"Well, yes…" Piper slowly said, "I suppose that they could qualify as blasters. Why?"

The Doctor, Mycroft, Sherlock, and Jack all turned to look at a smirking River. The others took their seats, leaving River and Sherlock to stand next to Anderson and his father.

Piper continued, "Mr. Anderson, Sylvia, Mrs. Song, and Sherlock will enter the corn maze. The last one to avoid being hit wins. There will be a few cameras set up so that your family can watch you. Any questions?"

"I have one," Sherlock spoke up, looking incredibly confused, "Who's Sylvia?"

Anderson stared at him before pointedly raising his hand.

"Your name's Sylvia?" Sherlock snorted.

"Yeah," Anderson slowly said.

"Sylvia!"

"Shut up, Holmes."

River and Sherlock still snickered.

Piper handed them their blasters and continued, "To give everyone a fair chance, we're going to let everyone try their…blasters. As you can see, we have put up several targets."

Sure enough, four bull's-eye targets were sitting several feet away.

"Ladies first," Mr. Anderson said. He and Anderson smirked at one another, as though sharing some sort of secret.

"Ooh," River sweetly said, "That's so nice of you…such a gentleman…let me just…"

She struggled to lift the large blaster and the Andersons snickered.

"So I just press the little trigger?" River continued in a falsely sappy voice, "This little trigger right here? I'm not sure that I can do it…"

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

Sherlock roared with laughter as River hit the bulls-eye on every single target.

The Andersons jaws dropped and River calmly said, "Yep, it works just fine."

In the stands, the Doctor, Mycroft, and Jack all cracked up.

"I love your wife," Mycroft jokingly said.

"So do I," the Doctor proudly declared.

Anderson and his father tested their blasters and they put on their safety vests.

"Anything goes," Anderson pointed out with a vile smirk.

"Anything goes," Sherlock and River agreed.

The four headed into the maze at different entrances.

Within minutes, River had found and shot Anderson's father. The man turned red and began spluttering with anger.

"Don't take it personally," River said with a bright smile, "You never had a chance."

Unfortunately, Anderson proved to be cleverer than his father. He managed to manipulate his voice enough to scream, "HELP! RIVER!"

River immediately raced towards the cry of help. By the time she gave it a second thought, it was already too late. Anderson smirked as he managed to blast her in the shoulder.

"No, NO!" Mycroft cried.

"That's the oldest trick in the book!" Jack groaned.

The Doctor sighed, "This is what happens when you stop being a sociopath!"

Piper spoke into the microphone, "Anderson and Sherlock are the last ones left!"

"Anderson verses Sherlock," Jack muttered, "This should be good."

In the maze, Sherlock took a deep breath as he crept along. He heard Piper's remark and was frankly horrified by it. How did River manage to get blasted? She was River! A moment of doubt crossed him as he realized that he might not be able to do this. But he had to.

"Hey, freak."

Sherlock leapt out of the way to avoid a paint pellet, courtesy of Anderson. The boy had snuck behind him and was now smirking.

"I'm not a freak," Sherlock muttered.

"Sociopath. Freak. It's all the same, really."

"I'm not a sociopath," Sherlock growled, "And I'm not a freak!"

Anderson went to shoot him and Sherlock rapidly hit his vortex manipulator.

He appeared behind Anderson and fiercely continued, "My name is Sherlock Timothy Carlton Holmes and I am brilliant!"

He hit his vortex manipulator again; appearing on Anderson's other side. As soon as he landed, he lifted the blaster and shot Anderson in the back. In the stands, the Doctor, Mycroft, River, Jack, the pirates, and the Beatles burst into wild applause.

Anderson's jaw dropped and Sherlock smugly said, "Anything goes."

The Doctor pumped his fist and screamed, "YES, YES, YES!"

"HE DID IT!" River shouted.

"WAY TO GO, SHERLOCK!" Mycroft bellowed.

The group raced down to meet the elated boy as he exited the maze. The Doctor pulled him into a tight hug.

"Nice shot!" River cried.

"That was amazing!" Jack boomed.

The pirates all sang, "For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fel_low_…"

The Beatles thumped the youngest Holmes brother on the back and chorused:

"Well done!"

"Excellent!"

"Impressive!"

"Bloody brilliant!"

"Nice job," Mycroft cried, ruffling his brother's hair.

Sherlock grinned from ear to ear as the Doctor lifted him up onto his shoulders.

Anderson emerged from the maze and glared at them.

"Well done, Mr. Holmes," Piper said, coming over.

He handed Sherlock a beautiful trophy and the boy proudly held it up.

"That's it, I'm afraid," Piper apologetically explained, "There was going to be a band but they cancelled at the last minute."

"Oh, that's alright," the Doctor cheerfully said, "We have our own band."

He glanced at John who happily exclaimed, "No problem, Doctor."

"Your uncles are Beatles impersonators?" Piper asked, looking impressed.

"Yes…" Mycroft slowly said, "That's…exactly what they are."

"Do they sound like them?"

"A bit," Sherlock replied, trying not to smirk.

"Well…" Piper hesitated, "I suppose…"

The group was already heading towards the stage. Within minutes, the Beatles were enthusiastically performing. Sherlock leapt down from the Doctor's shoulders as the Time Lord grabbed the microphone from John and enthusiastically sang:

_Well shake it up baby, now_

The Beatles backed him up:

_(Shake it up baby)_

_Twist and shout (Twist and shout)_

_C'mon c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, baby, now (Come on baby)_

_Come on and work it on out (Work it on out)_

Sherlock and Mycroft cracked up, happily dancing with River and Jack. The pirates also danced around as the Doctor vigorously sang:

_Well, work it on oouuut (Work it on out)_

_You know you look so good (Look so good)_

_You know you got me goin', now (Got me goin')_

_Just like I knew you would (Like I knew you would)_

By the time the song reached the instrumental, the Andersons had sullenly come over.

Sherlock spotted the Tardis nearby and suddenly had an idea.

"Hey Doctor," Sherlock said with a smirk, "Can we…?"

"No," the Doctor flatly said.

"Come on, Sweetie," River sweetly said.

"It'll be the icing on the cake," Jack cried.

The Doctor hesitated and Mycroft asked, "Please, Doctor."

"Pleeeeeease?" Sherlock begged.

"Oh, alright," the Doctor lightheartedly said.

Sherlock smirked and cried, "Hey, Sylvia! Check this out!"

He snapped his fingers and the Tardis doors swung open. They cracked up at the horrified look on Anderson's face.

"I love doing that," Sherlock admitted.

The Doctor grinned and said, "What do you say to going to that planet with the mountains of ice-cream after this? And then we can get back to protecting the universe. That's one good thing about our job. Every day is 'bring your children to work' day!"

Sherlock and Mycroft laughed at that.

John Lennon gave a cue and the Time Lord enthusiastically sang:

_Weeeeeeell, shake it up, baby, now (Shake it up, baby)_

_Twist and shout (Twist and shout)_

_C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, baby, now (Come on baby)_

_Come on and work it on out (Work it on out)_


End file.
